BLACK
by studentDr.Sarcasm
Summary: It doesn't matter where one was when the end of the world came. It doesn't even matter who one used to be. The dead now ruled the world and they craved the taste of flesh regardless of who it belonged to. The real question now, the only one that truly mattered anymore, was this: Who was I going to become?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hi hello, let's just start this off with the obvious I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD. Kay? Moving on. A slightly different version of this chapter is posted somewhere on this site through my very first fanfic account, but I can't remember the email or password to get on that account so I'm gonna pretend it doesn't exist. Um, what else? Oh, this story is going to start at season 1 and although the beginning (the first few plot arcs) will follow the TV show very closely, at one point I'm gonna deviate from the TV show and go my own route. Just fyi._

 _Anyways, I hope you enjoy it. I hope you review it. I hope you tell your friends to check it out._

* * *

 **Chapter One:**

 **Strangers**

* * *

 _"We are all just a car crash, a diagnosis, an unexpected phone call, a newfound love, or a broken heart away from becoming a completely Different person. How beautifully fragile are we that so many things can take but a moment to alter who we are for Forever?" -Samuel Decker Thompson_

* * *

 _"Hey!"_ The world felt hazy. Thoughts formed slowly and a slow burning pain spread all throughout my body. _"Hey, you need to get up!"_ A voice called out to me. Male. Quiet. Muffled. It sounded like I was underwater and the voice was speaking from above. _"Can you hear me?"_

My eyes fluttered open and morning light greeted me along with a clear blue sky. A face hovered over mine. Square in shape with a freshly shaven jawline. His mouth was pulled tight in concentration and his eyes were blue. A shade nearly the same as the sky. Dark hair was hidden under a wide brimmed hat. A sheriff hat. "I'm going to help you sit up. It might hurt."

Warm hands gripped under my shoulders and slowly pushed me into a seated position. A small cry of pain slipped from my lips as apologies spewed from his. I was facing a car now. A red two door, though one was missing entirely. The car was flipped over and my lower half was stretched across the roof. Jeans, ripped and bloodied, clothed my legs. One foot, my left, was covered in a dark brown boot while the other only had a black ankle sock.

 _What had happened?_

The same hands quickly hooked under my arms and pulled me out of the destroyed vehicle. I barely managed to hold back the hiss of pain that built up in my chest. It took every bit of my concentration to do so and my sole thoughts surrounded the aches and pains that I could feel as the stranger dragged me away from the crash.

 _What the hell was going on?_

There were scratches all along my arms and hands. All minor, but they were prominent enough that the stinging pain clouded my thoughts. The plain, dark blue t-shirt I wore was covered in splotches of dark red like a demented Rorschach test. Suddenly, my attention was yanked away from the odd, random shapes of blood as the man forced me to an upright position.

"Watch the glass." He said as he helped me limp over to where a police car was parked across the empty road. Carefully, I kept my dizzy gaze down and tried to place my shoeless foot away from the shards of glass and bits of twisted metal that littered the road. He sat me down sideways in the passenger seat softly. My legs involuntarily stretched out and a groan of relief bubbled out from my lips at the comfort the seat gave.

The scene before me looked like something out of a movie scene and my foggy mind made it feel like I wasn't even really there. It was an out of body experience. There was a totaled car, debris scattered across the road, and dark blood splattered against the gray asphalt. The put together man, still standing off to the side, stood out from the chaotic scene, yet at the same time somehow managed to fit in.

He wore a police uniform. It consisted of a tan, short sleeve button up with brown pocket flaps and a gold star on his chest. He wore brown pants with a holster around his waist carrying a large handgun.

He was an officer. He was supposed to be here.

The guy took his hat off and squatted down, "How are you feeling? Is your head alright?"

My thoughts continued to swirl around in my head in a haphazard manner. I couldn't focus on a single one alone, and anytime I tried it seemed to float away from my grasp.

My wandering gaze caught sight of a reflection in the front windshield and my focus snapped immediately to the many wounds that stood out like a beacon. A bloody gash above the left eye was the worst injury. Blood had dried around the area and clumped up in the light brown eyebrow below it. A bit further down a dark bruise highlighted the left cheekbone. To wrap it all up was a discolored, busted bottom lip. The injuries needed treatment. They needed care.

 _Who's face did the injuries belong to?_

 _Was that-… Was that me?_

My vision began to fade in and out as confusion overtook my mind. I looked at the windshield again, trying to find clarity, but my eyes focused on something beyond the strange reflection.

A human hand.

It was discolored and there was a piece of bone that stuck out of the wrist. I sucked in a sharp breath and suddenly I was no longer an observer to the world around me. I was here, in the moment, and I was scared as hell.

"There's a h-hand." The words fell out of my mouth in disbelief and shock. What did I do? What the hell had happened? "Did I-? My car…I-I-… Did I _hit_ someone? I can't- _I can't remember."_

I choked back a sob as absolutely nothing came to mind. I had no answers. The man stood back up, looking to the forest line, and my eyes couldn't help but follow him in response. I wanted to look away, to bury my face in my hands and disappear entirely, but my gaze drifted back to the hand like a moth to a flame. As if the person could feel both our gazes, the hand slowly pulled back into the bushes.

"They're _alive_." I didn't bother biting back a single bit of the relief I felt. The person was still alive, but they must have needed help. I tried to push myself up and out of the seat, but a hand clamped down on my shoulder and forced me back down, " _Hey_."

I glared up at the officer in front of me, but a low gurgling sound made me turn and look back at the bushes. The top of a head slowly appeared as the person struggled to push him or herself out of the bush. A groan echoed through the air as the woman, judging by her long hair and thin shoulders, flopped out onto the side of the road. Her head bobbed side to side unsteadily before she was finally able to look up.

Her face was discolored, there was a deep gash across the side of her head starting at her left temple, and her entire lower jaw was missing. She let out a gurgling groan and the tongue that hung down from the gaping wound bounced against her throat behind it. A scream erupted from my throat before I could even try and comprehend what was happening. The warm hand on my shoulder squeezed tightly and I was vaguely aware of him trying to silence me with soft shushes and calm words, but I shoved his hand away and ignored him.

" _What the hell is that!?"_ I yelled, " _What the fuck!?"_

" _Please_." The man hissed in urgency, "You _have_ to be quiet."

He wanted me to be quiet? Did he see what was happening? Did he see that- that _thing_ across the road from us? It crawled forward and began to rise up off the ground only to stagger onto the asphalt road with jerky movements. I screamed again. It was coming. It was _coming_.

"Damn it." The man mumbled under his breath as he stepped around the open car door toward the monster. What was he doing? Like watching a train wreck in action, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the scene. He glanced up and down the road with his hand hovering over his weapon. The thing took a few more steps, these faster than the last, and as it reached the front of my broken car the man pulled out his weapon and fired. I jumped at the loud blast and saw the creature's head snap backwards while the back of its skull simultaneously exploded outward in shards of bone and brain matter. It collapsed to the ground without even a twitch.

I threw myself out of the car, landing on my hands and knees, and immediately threw up onto the asphalt. All I could hear was the sound of me gasping for air. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. Hell, I could barely think. I couldn't bring myself to stand back up. If I looked back over at the body lying in the middle of the road, would it slowly rise again? That couldn't have been a human. It sure as hell was human in shape, but the way it moved, the serious wounds that didn't even seem to bother it, and the God-awful sounds it made... Humans didn't- _couldn't_ do that. A human would've died in the bushes from those injuries. There was no more food for me to throw up, I could feel it, but my body continued to dry heave.

"I'm _sorry_." A hand settled on my lower back, lightly rubbing in a comforting circle, "I'm sorry you had to see that, but I need you to get up." I shook my head and continued to stare at the asphalt and what remained of my last eaten meal. That had to be a better sight than the mutilated body in the road. This fate had to be better than anything else that could happen today. "More could come from the sound." He said. I snapped my head to look up at him. There was distress and regret in his eyes.

" _M-More_?" I said, and it came out as a whisper. "There's more of _them_?"

He nodded once, "Let me help you." With a grunt, he carefully pulled me up off the ground and back into the seat I had been in seconds before. I focused my eyes on the car's dashboard so I wouldn't have to see the remains. "My name is Rick Grimes. I'm sorry again that you had to see that, but can you please tell me your name?"

My mouth fell open to answer, but no words seemed to form. I searched through the bouncing thoughts in my head only to find no information. There was absolutely nothing. There was no name sitting at the tip of my tongue. There was no memory of the accident. There was no memory of _anything_. All that was there was confusion and panic. With shaky hands, I reached up and pulled the passenger seat visor down. I was hoping to find recognition in the face that stared back at me now that I was able to focus and wasn't so distracted by the wounds, but the only thing in the mirror was a fearful stranger.

Unfamiliar brown eyes were wide in shock and horror. The woman had an oval face with clear, sun kissed skin in the areas that weren't covered in dark purple bruises or dried blood. Light brown hair fell a to a few inches above her shoulders in a wavy mess. The front portion of hair was held back in a tangled, falling apart braid. My hand lifted to touch the woman's face. The woman was me, but it felt like I was seeing this face for the very first time. I was a stranger to myself.

"I-I-I don't know." I stammered and shook my head. A lump formed in my throat and the tears I had managed to bite back in the face of a monster came flooding out. I looked back to Officer Rick Grimes, "I-I don't know who I am. _I don't know who I am_!"

It felt like the air had been knocked out of my lungs. Panic welled up in my chest as I hyperventilated and shook. Hot tears dripped down my cheek. Why was this happening? What was going on?

 _Why couldn't I remember anything?_

" _Hey, hey, hey_." Officer Grimes said in a firm, calm voice. He lightly tugged my chin in his direction so I was facing him. I kept my gaze on his own, "Everything is going to be ok, alright? I know it doesn't seem like it, but you're going to be ok." He nodded, "It seems like you hit your head pretty hard in the accident. I'm sure everything will come back to you."

I took a shuddering breath and bobbed my head pathetically. There was a headache lingering behind my eyebrows. He was right. He _had_ to be right. I just needed to heal. My memories would come back to me. I forced myself to suck in another slow, deep breath and hastily wiped away the hot tears that leaked down my face. The sharp panic slowly ebbed away to a lingering, but manageable, dread.

Officer Rick Grimes had a calming presence. His words and smooth, southern voice kept me from truly becoming hysterical. Maybe it was the uniform or the look of honor in his eyes, maybe it was even the way he held himself, but in that single moment it felt like I could trust him. It's not like I had many other options.

"Come on." He motioned for me to pull my legs in and I did. He then leaned over my lap and grabbed a brown jacket that was sitting in the driver's seat. The sleeve had a decorated sheriff deputy patch that matched his shirt. He offered me a small, firm smile before laying the jacket over my shoulders reassuringly before turning and jogging back in the direction of the wreckage. I was too scared to actually watch him go though.

Instead, I buried my face into my hands. Nothing was coming to me. Not a single thing. I didn't know where, when, or who I was. For the life of me, I couldn't remember the crash itself or where I had been going when it happened. All these frantic questions filled my mind alongside the scariest of them all.

 _What the hell was that thing that had sprung out from the bushes?_

I lifted my head at the sound of approaching footsteps and quickly rubbed away the leftover tears. Rick had a medium sized book bag around one of his shoulders. His eyes glanced over the area in caution again before he came over and offered the bag. "I found this in your car."

Gratefully, I wrapped my arms around the bag and Rick stepped back to shut the car door. He jogged around to the other side of the car and got in. There was movement in the forest line, I could see it out of the corner of my eye, but I refused to look closer at it. Rather, I narrowed my eyes at a single point on my bag as Rick started the car and began to drive away. Only a minute or so had passed before I found the nerve to speak up.

"Do you know what that thing was?" I licked my lower lip, forgetting I had a wound there and flinched when I accidentally brushed across it. My head was resting against the back of the seat and I stared at him, "The thing in the bushes. The thing you-… you shot."

"You don't know?" Rick replied with a quick glance.

"I don't know _anything_." I replied with a crack in my voice. With a pause, I took a moment to collect myself again, "I-I can't remember a single thing. _Nothing_."

He nodded with a look of sympathy on his face, "I only woke up recently. I was...I was in a coma. Woke up in the ruins of the hospital not knowing anything myself." Rick paused in thought before letting out a sigh, "This is going to be difficult to hear." He glanced over again, "They aren't people anymore. It was the first thing I checked before doing anything else. They aren't sick. They're _dead_ and they…they try and eat any living thing that moves, and if you're bitten by them you'll get sick and die only to come back as one of them."

"But... _how_? How could someone that died come back and…" It didn't make any sort of logical sense. "How is that even possible?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Rick said bluntly. He cleared his throat and spared me another glance. This one was apologetic, "I'm sorry you had to hear it this way."

I shook my head, "I doubt there's a good way to ever hear news like that."

Rick nodded and focused his gaze on the road ahead. There was another pause of silence before he spoke up again, "I'm heading to Atlanta to find my family. My wife and son. I don't know where you were heading, but if I had to guess you might've been on your way to Atlanta too."

"What makes you say that?"

"Atlanta's supposed to have a refugee camp there. You're welcome to join me if you want."

I answered his offer with a question of my own, "Were you there when I-… when the car-?"

"No." Rick managed to understand what I was trying to ask despite the fact that I couldn't get it out entirely, "I saw the wreckage from a distance. You're lucky you weren't attacked. All that blood, they could've come running."

I moved my gaze and attention back to the bag sitting on my lap. After taking a moment to steel myself, I opened a smaller top pocket to see a pen, seventy cents in change, a crumpled up receipt, and a decorative wallet. I grabbed the wallet first and quickly pulled it open to investigate. There was $400 in cash, but no credit or debit cards. Another receipt, but this one wasn't crumpled up. It came from a gas station located in Dallas, Texas. Finally, I pulled out my driver's license.

"My name is Victoria Smith." I read aloud. There was no recognition in the name, but it felt familiar on my tongue. As if I've said it many times before, "I was born on April 26, 1984 and according to this I'm from Alabama."

"Alabama?"

"Yeah, a 25 year old from Alabama…" My words trailed away as I thought back to my other findings, "…but I don't think that's where I was coming from. I have a receipt that puts me in Texas. When did this... _thing_ , start?"

Rick twisted his lips, "Maybe a month ago? Can't be sure."

I was silent for a moment as I mulled this new information over in my head along with everything else I had learned. Where had I been when all this started, and had I actually been heading towards Atlanta? It made no sense. If I was from Alabama and I had a receipt from Texas, then why the hell was I in Georgia of all places? Did I have family here I was looking for? Friends?

The pain began to settle and grow more pronounced as I relaxed into the seat. Soreness washed over my muscles and my head was throbbing something fierce. None of the physical pain held a flame to the mental pain I felt though. Seeing my name hadn't sparked my memory like I had hoped it would. In fact, it just filled me with more questions.

The only question I had a remote idea on how to answer was the question of what to do next. At this point, it seemed like there was no way I was going to suddenly remember where I was coming from. I wasn't going to bet all my marbles on that. Officer Grimes said Atlanta had a refugee camp so maybe I had been heading there. Hopefully, that refugee camp had some answers for me. If I was really lucky then it might have someone who would recognize me. Plus, the last thing I wanted to do was travel alone right now.

"Officer Grimes", I spoke up, "I do want to go to Atlanta with you."  
"Good." He nodded with a small smile, "I wasn't exactly comfortable with letting someone as injured as you are wander around alone anyways." He let out a soft chuckle, "And you can just call me Rick."

"Thank you. For earlier I mean."

"No problem."

The ride became silent again as I turned my head and looked out the window. My eyelids grew heavy as I watched the landscape blur by. A lingering thought at the back of my mind was telling me that I shouldn't fall asleep because I could be concussed. There were a few seconds where I felt anger towards the thought. I could remember a concussion fact, but not anything else about myself? That was a bunch of bullshit as far as I was concerned. It didn't last long though because I was fading into unconsciousness fast. Rick picked up the radio on the front panel and began to speak into it.

"Can you hear my voice? If anybody reads, please respond." He paused and I let my eyes close, "Broadcasting on emergency channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on 85. If anybody can hear, please respond."

* * *

"Victoria? Victoria?" A squeezing motion on my shoulder startled me awake. My eyes snapped open as I looked to my side. Rick was pulling his hand away from me, "Are you alright?"

I gave him an affirmative grunt before sitting up and stretching my back. The soreness was still there along with a few sharp pains, but I expected no less. My head still hurt, but it wasn't as bad as it had been before.

"The car ran out of gas. I was gonna walk ahead and try to find some more." Rick explained.

I glanced around to see the police car was stopped in the middle of the road with Georgia forests on either side. I looked back to him, "Can I come along?"

"Yeah, grab your bag just in case we don't come back." Rick motioned toward my book bag, which now sat on the floorboard.

With a sigh I unzipped the larger portion of my book bag and dug around to see if there were a miraculous extra pair of shoes. Fortunately, or unfortunately, there was a pair of flip-flops pressed to the side of the bag from all the other crap I had. It wasn't an ideal choice of footwear in the apocalypse, but it was better than being barefoot. Ignoring the urge to look closer at all the belongings in my bag, I pulled the sock off my right foot and slipped on the brown, leather flip-flop. As ridiculous as it looked, I decided to keep the boot on my other foot. There was no heel on the boot so both shoes were level, and I figured having good protection on at least one foot was better than none, right?

I tossed the other flip-flop back into my bag, pulled it onto my shoulders, and then climbed out of the car. Rick was still in the vehicle, but his door was open now. He pulled a picture from his overhead visor and stared at it in longing for a moment before tucking it into his shirt pocket. He glanced over at me and I quickly averted my gaze. I walked toward the front of the police cruiser and Rick met me there a few seconds later with his own black duffel bag in one hand, a red gas can in the other, and on his back was a larger bag that was filled with various guns.

"Need me to carry one?" I reached out my hand with the offer.

Rick gave me another firm smile and handed me the gas can, "Thanks."

I gave him a quick nod and the two of us began walking down the side of the road in silence. I still wore his jacket despite the Georgia heat. There was something about the thick jacket that comforted me. It was like my own personal, metaphorical shield, separating me from the ugly world.

"I'm sorry that I haven't been very social. Just had a lot on my mind." Rick used his free hand to readjust his wide-brimmed hat.

"It's fine. My head is pounding so I don't think I'd be up for any deep conversations anyways." I answered truthfully with a forced smile. Rick chuckled in response and it grew quiet again. I quickly cleared my throat, "Can you tell me more about those...the dead?"

"Wish I could, but I honestly don't know much more myself. I know the only thing that puts them down permanently is to go for their heads and that they're attracted to sound. The guy who helped me called them walkers." Rick answered with a sigh. He sounded disappointed that he had no more information on the matter.

"You said you were heading to Atlanta to find your wife and son right? How do you know they'll be there? At the refugee camp?"

"I don't." Rick replied frankly, he paused before continuing in his deep southern tinged tone, "But it's the first place to start looking. That same guy told me about that camp. He mentioned the CDC was working on a cure. I figured that'd be the first place they tried to go."

"That's why you think I was heading to Atlanta too? To find family?" I asked. Rick nodded and I pondered on the thought. It'd be great, hell it'd be fantastic, if I could find some sort of family member in Atlanta. It didn't even have to be a family member, just someone who recognized me would do. Maybe they could shed some light on my murky past. A bitter chuckle left me, "Too bad I can't remember who my family is."

Rick must have noticed how downcast and beaten I felt because he gave me a reassuring nod, "Hey. We'll figure this out. Don't worry."

It gave me comfort that he said _'we'_ rather than _'you'_. It made me feel a little less alone. Like I had an ally in this mess of a world and there was nothing more reassuring than that.

"That's an interesting choice of footwear." Rick spoke up and I could tell from his tone that he was trying to shift my focus away from the more depressing topic of my lack of memories.

I chuckled and glanced down at my ridiculous feet, "Yeah, well, beggars can't be choosers, right?"

"That's true."

"Who knows? Maybe I'll start an apocalyptic trend." Rick let out a soft chuckle and bobbed his head slightly. There was another pause in the conversation as I contemplated asking him what I wanted to know. He was a stranger to me, and it seemed rude to pry so much, but damn was I curious. I shrugged my shoulders a bit, cringing as pain flashed across the back of my right shoulder, "So…Can I ask how you ended up in a coma?" He glanced over at me and I quickly added, "You don't have to say if you don't want too. I get it."

Rick shook his head and gave me a reassuring smile, "No, it's fine. Hardly a secret."

As the two of us continued down the abandoned street, Rick explained how he was shot on the job working with his partner. The last thing he remembered was pain and panic, and then suddenly he was waking up in an empty, desolate hospital. Rick had stumbled through the abandoned hospital into the streets of his dead town only to almost wind up dying himself. A father and son took him in and helped him get on his feet. He had returned the favor by taking them to the sheriff's department and getting them a few weapons. That's where the rather large bag of guns and ammo on his back had come from.

Essentially, Rick had woken up in the middle of the apocalypse with no idea what the hell was happening. It was a situation I found I could relate to.

Rick and I both stopped as we came to a small farmhouse off the side of the road with a large field taking up the space behind it. The house was white with a tan roof, but the paint on the house was peeling and all that could be heard was the buzzing of a few bugs and the wind chime playing its eerie melody. We stopped in the front lawn and Rick dropped his bags to look around. I set the gas can and my own bag beside his as he began to walk closer to the home.

"Hello?" Rick called out loudly, "Police officer and a friend out here." He took a few steps toward the front porch staircase and I stayed where I was, "Can we borrow some gas?" Rick waited a few seconds before glancing back at me with a shrug. He cautiously and quietly walked onto the porch then peeked through the door's window, "Hello?"

I nervously glanced around before looking back over to him. Rick knocked on the door a few times and called out again, "Hello? Anybody home?"

An uneasy feeling settled in my gut making me squirm in place. My eyes darted around the empty area one more time. What if one of those walkers was around here? I cleared my throat, "Can you see anybody through the window? Rick?"

Rick moved to the left and glanced through the first window before moving onto the second one. His shoulders tensed and he lingered there for a few seconds before turning on his heel and quickly rushing off the porch. Rick's face was white as a sheet and it looked like he was going to be ill.

"What's wrong?" I took a few steps forward. The curious side of me wanted to take a look for myself, but Rick held out his arm and stopped me before I even got close to the steps.

" _Don't_." He shook his head firmly. Whatever he had seen hadn't sat well with him, "Just don't look. Trust me."

Rick brushed past me and took a seat on a stone bench off to the side. I glanced once more at the house. If Rick said I shouldn't look, I was going to take his word for it. I could barely handle what happened on the road and he had handled that like a champ. I turned back around to see Rick had pulled his hat off. He ran a hand through his damp, wavy hair. A sigh escaped his lips and I watched as the troubled look on his face grew.

Hesitantly, I sat beside him. There were no words that came to mind for me to say. The guy had comforted me so easily before, but now I didn't have the slightest idea of how to do the same for him. It wasn't like I knew him well enough to say what he wanted to hear. I pressed my lips together and set my hand on his shoulder in an attempt to be comforting. He glanced over at me and I offered him a small, reassuring smile. I didn't know what to say, but maybe it would help him to know that he wasn't doing this alone right now. It sure as hell helped me. Rick nodded and sat up straight.

"We need to keep moving. I'm gonna check the truck." Rick stood and crossed the small space to a small pickup truck that sat off to the side of the house.

Rick held his hat while he opened the truck door and began to search for keys. I remained seated and watched him as his search turned up nothing. He shut the door with a frown and was on his way back to me when a sudden sound made both of us jump in surprise.

"Was that a...?" My voice trailed off as we both walked around the house to the source. Standing in a closed off area was a large light tan horse. Splotches of light gray were scattered along his back and a stripe of white went down his nose.

"A horse." Rick confirmed with a chuckle as a smile slipped onto his face. He turned in my direction and held his hat out, "Hold this?"

I nodded and took the hat from him with a skeptical look. What exactly did he have planned? Rick found some rope and opened the gate door. The horse jumped back in surprise letting out a cry that I couldn't help but flinch at. However, Rick didn't look as spooked as I was by the animal. I had no idea why, but horses were apparently _not_ one of my favorite animals.

"Easy now. Easy. Not gonna hurt you. Nothing like that." Rick took slow and steady steps. His voice was calm and reassuring, "More like a proposal."

I leaned against the fence and watched with interest at his movements. He stepped closer to the horse, sure in every step that he took, "Atlanta's just down the road a ways. It's safe there- food, shelter, people. Other horses too, I bet." A soft chuckle escaped my lips and Rick glanced back in acknowledgement before returning his attention back to the mostly calm horse. He slowly wrapped the rope around the horse's neck and rubbed his hand against the horse's white stripe, "There we go, good boy. Good boy."

"Thought you were a cop, not the horse whisperer." I joked. Rick led the horse forward with a smile and I nervously took a step back. He didn't seem to notice or at least he acted like he didn't.

"I'm gonna see if I can find a saddle for him. Can you grab our bags?"

"Yeah, sure." I replied before tossing him his hat like a frisbee, which he caught with ease, and then heading back toward the front of the house. The bags were still sitting there alongside the red gas can. I bent over to grab them and flinched as my head spun. It had become easy to ignore the growing pain, but this was a sudden reminder that I was not at 100%. In fact, I was far from it. My eyes darted to my own bag and I reached forward to open it up. There had been something in here I spotted earlier that looked like it could've been a med-kit.

Near the top, under a folded up shirt, was a small black box. I pulled it out and popped it open. A sigh of relief escaped me as my suspicions were confirmed. Inside were the typical small first aid materials, which included some gauze, Band-Aids, Neosporin, and pills that looked like Ibuprofen. There were also some tools for stitching up a wound. What really caught my eye though was a white envelope that had been folded and held inside the kit.

Curiously, I opened it up to find two pictures. The first was of me and a girl about my own age. Her hair was long and dark brown, almost black, and she had a lightly tanned complexion with a wide smile and pretty brown eyes. The two of us were smiling brightly while wearing scrubs with tags that read ' _volunteer'_.

The second was of us again, but now there was a guy there too with curly blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a thick build. The three of us were standing in front of a large building. There were multiple signs in the back of the picture, but all I could make out was, _'University of Alabama in Birmingham'_.

It was a medical school. I knew that. I was there. I…graduated?

There were flickers of bits of memories in my mind. Tests and books, late nights walking through a hospital, sicknesses and diseases, and a sense of pride mingled with frustration, grief, and exhaustion. The funny thing was that in every flicker I saw there were no faces. I couldn't remember any faces of the people beside me. None, but one that is, and that was the face of the woman in the picture.

"What is that?"

I whipped around to see Rick walk up with the horse. Said horse now had a saddle and reigns. My focus turned back to Rick as I stood up with the pictures in hand, "I, um, I found some pictures while looking for medicine."

He glanced at the pictures with a questioning gaze. I gave him a smile and offered them to him to look at. As Rick glanced at both pictures, I grabbed two pills from the kit and dry swallowed them. He handed them back to me after a moment, "UAB. That's a medical school isn't it?"

"Yeah. I think I was a...", I paused as the flickers washed over me again, "Marie was going to be a surgeon and I was going to work in the Emergency Department."

"You remember?" He asked with wide eyes.

"Yes? _No_." I shook my head with a frustrating sigh, "It's weird. It's like I can remember some things, but not others."

Rick nodded, "Hey, this is progress. It's only been a few hours since your crash. Give it time." I glanced down at the pictures one more time and he spoke up again, "Maybe you were trying to meet up with her?"

There was something about his words that just didn't feel right. Another bit of memory drifted though my mind and I shook my head in response, "She's dead." It wasn't a solid memory, but I could remember black. Black jackets, black dresses, and a black coffin. The air was hot and dry. People cried. She had died tragically. She had died too soon. "I think that's why I was in Texas. Her funeral."

Rick reached forward and set a hand on my elbow, pulling my attention back to reality, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about your friend."

I nodded and gave him a smile of thanks, but it was a half-hearted effort. I wished I could remember more than her name and that she had died. She had been important to me. I knew it, but there was no pang of pain at remembering her loss. There was just discomfort and disappointment of not knowing more. I flipped over the picture of the two of us to see scribbled handwriting that could have been my own, _'Marie & Tori'_. Quickly, I tucked both pictures back into my bag along with the med-kit.

Rick got onto the horse's back with ease and reached out as I passed him both his duffel bags. He set them firmly in front of him so they wouldn't fall off and then held out his hand to help me up. I slipped my book bag back on over Rick's jacket and hesitantly glanced from his hand to the horse.

"What's wrong?"

"It's stupid, but I…I don't think I like horses." I replied with a grimace. "I don't want to say I'm scared, but I'm pretty sure I'm scared."

Rick chuckled, "Don't worry. I got you."

I sucked in a deep breath and took his hand. I had trusted him up to this point, why not a little more? He helped me get settled onto the horse and everything seemed all right so far. It felt a tad bit awkward sitting so close to someone I didn't know very well, but all things considered that was the least of my problems.

"Go easy, ok. I haven't done this for years, and Victoria's nervous too." Rick murmured to the horse and my eyes narrowed at the ' _haven't done this in years'_ portion of his sentence. Before I could complain, he pulled on the reigns and the horse suddenly galloped forward into the field. A yelp erupted from my throat and all thoughts of awkwardness were thrown aside as I wrapped my arms around Rick's waist and clung tightly to him in hopes that I wouldn't fall off and bust my already broken head open.

* * *

The ride wasn't too terrible. When the horse eventually slowed down to a walk it was almost enjoyable. Almost. I kept my arms loosely around Rick just in case the horse decided to surprise us and pick up speed again. As it stepped onto the main road to Atlanta we fell into a quiet shock. The road in was empty and bare while the road out was filled with destroyed and gutted cars lined bumper to bumper as far as the eye could see.

"That's really eerie." I murmured and unintentionally tightened my arms around him. Rick lightly kicked the horse making it hurry down the empty road a little bit faster. Unfortunately, the city itself wasn't any better. Streets were abandoned and silent as trash and debris floated down the road, carried by the warm breeze. The horse slowly trotted down the road past abandoned cars and a large bus. I glanced inside to see people actually sitting in the seats. Suddenly, one person began to turn their rotted head to look at me. The bloody bite mark at its throat and its missing eye reminded me that these things were no longer people. The people they had been died and now they were left a rotting monster eager to create more walking corpses. I cringed and clutched onto Rick's shirt, burying my face into his back, as the horse began to panic.

"It's alright." Rick brushed the horse with his hand trying to calm the animal down, "Nothing we can't out run. You alright, Victoria?"

"Y-Yeah." I said and took a shaky breath. As much as I wanted to hide away forever, I couldn't afford to. This was the world now. I needed to adapt. I needed to be strong. If not for myself then for the guy I had my arms wrapped around. The last thing I needed was to let my fear put him in danger. "I'm ok, Rick."

I forced myself to lift my head. A groan made me glance back to see one of the walkers, as Rick called them, followed behind the horse at a slow, shambling pace. Its skin was ashy and its eyes were a cloudy yellow and red. "I'm doing ok."

The horse continued down the street when Rick stopped him in front of a large military tank sitting in the middle of the road. Lying on the cannon was a dead body being eaten by black crows that cawed loudly. It shook me to my core to see such a big city so dead. This was the type of thing that happened in movies and books. It wasn't ever supposed to be a reality, was it?

Rick turned the horse around when a new sound greeted my ears. It was a steady thumping noise high in the air.

"That sounds like a helicopter." I thought aloud. Rick scanned the skies desperately and I snapped my head up to do the same.

"Over there!" He motioned toward the reflection of a helicopter flying past a tall skyscraper. He snapped the reigns and sent the horse down the street chasing after it. The horse turned the corner and my stomach dropped.

Hundreds of walkers shuffled along the street aimlessly. At the sound of the panicked horse though, they all snapped their attention toward Rick and I. Fear welled up in me as the horse threw its two front legs up into the air. Rick turned the horse and sent it back down the street where we had come from.

The horse slid to a stop at the sight of more walkers. They were everywhere now. The horse threw its legs up again in panic, but this time I lost my grip and fell off the horse onto my back. A sharp pain radiated through my body as I tried to catch the air that had been knocked out of me.

"Rick!" I screamed as some of the walkers turned their full attention to me.

"Victoria, _run_!" He yelled, "I'll find you! I promise!"

Walkers rushed toward the horse. I wanted to help, but what the hell was I even capable of doing right now? Rick motioned me away with another yell of his own. The groan of a walker right behind me made me sprint forward past the mass and down the street. I glanced back to see six walkers following at a startling speed. Adrenaline dumped into my veins as fear and panic flooded my mind. I willed myself to run faster. Turning the corner and trying to avoid the fallen debris caused me to lose my one flip flop and I suddenly wished I had looked around the farmhouse for any kind of shoe that wouldn't have done this to me. A panicked cry left my throat as I sprinted on without even trying to grab the lost shoe. I ignored any pain I felt from my bare foot hitting the rough terrain and just kept going. Gunshots could be heard but I didn't stop. There had to be somewhere to go, there had to be a way out. My thoughts shot back to Rick, the kind stranger that helped me off the side of the road, the officer who had taken me under his wing. What would become of him? I wanted to help him, but as I glanced back I realized there was now a pack of about fifteen stumbling after me. There was nothing I could do to help Rick right now, and really I wondered if there was anything I could do to help me. I couldn't run forever, but damn it, I would sure as hell try. I bit back waves of pain and nausea as death itself chased me down the quiet streets of Atlanta.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Yay, chapter 2. Oh, hey, FYI, this story doesn't require knowledge in Supernatural (or even really TWD for that matter) to enjoy. I'm writing it in a way that starts at the beginning and explains it all. So don't be worried if you feel like you don't know enough about one show or the other to enjoy this story!_

* * *

Chapter Two:

Search or Survive

* * *

 _"_ _She was the kind of girl who searched for the things that could never be found." –(m.l)_

* * *

My eyes snapped open in panic as I sucked in a deep breath. I was painfully aware of the fact that I was lying in a patch of grass, leaves, and dirt. There was an object, hard and sharp, pressed against my lower back, my entire body ached something awful, and now it felt like my foot was ablaze. Rather than continuing to stare at the spots of morning light peeking between tree branches, I forced myself to sit up.

It took every ounce of energy I had to hold back a groan of pain and pull myself to the side so I could lean up against the tree I had been lying beside. All around me were trees, and I couldn't help but wonder how the hell I had gotten so deep into the forest. Atlanta's skyline couldn't even be seen from where I was.

 _Atlanta_.

Flashes of memory hit me as I recalled what lead me to where I was now. I had been running, sprinting, away from the dead and away from the man who saved me off the road. The monsters had gotten caught up at a fence that I crawled over, but I hadn't stopped at the other side to consider anything else. My fear kept me running and running until I was lost in the woods and the sun was gone. I vaguely remembered falling to the ground in exhaustion and not being able to get myself back up despite my best efforts.

Last night, I had been so sure it was going to be my last.

As my head pounded and consciousness left me, I was positive a walker was going to find me and rip me to shreds while I slept. Somehow though, I had made it through the night.

I had miraculously survived another day.

Guilt ate at me as my thoughts drifted back to Rick. _What had happened to him?_ Did he wake up this morning safe or had he met his doom on the streets of Atlanta? My hand shakily drifted up to grab at the light brown lapel of his jacket and tightened around it in a white-knuckled fist. My stomach began to turn uncomfortably and before I could fully recognize the sickening feeling, I was leaning over to the right dry heaving. However, thanks to my bout of nausea yesterday and a lack of a meal, there was nothing in my stomach for my body to purge so I was left with a burning throat and the taste of stomach acid in my mouth.

 _'_ _You gotta move. You gotta get going. You can't stay here.'_

The thoughts were involuntary, almost unrecognizable, but they did the trick. The repeating mantra of a warning reminded me that I couldn't lean against this tree all day. I gritted my teeth in pain and pulled my right leg towards my body so I could grab my foot and examine the damage done. The skin at my heel and ball of my foot was rubbed raw and surrounding the missing skin was splotches of dark purple bruises. Worse than that were the random scratches and shards of glass pressed into my tender skin.

With a steadying breath, I began to pull the glass out of my foot while hissing profanities under my breath. Messing with the injuries tore at any of the scabs that had formed and now my foot was bleeding again. As if I needed any more blood loss. My eyes darted around until they landed on my book bag that was lying only a foot or two away from where I was. Knowing that I was tempting fate by sitting here with a bloody injury, I quickly dragged myself across the ground until I was able to reach the bag's strap and pull it into my arms.

I had yet to actually take inventory of what was in this bag, but the gauze I had spotted in the first aid kit yesterday would come in handy right now. The small kit still sat at the top of the bag and I didn't hesitate to pull it out alongside the Neosporin. I had no alcohol to clean the wounds, but I figured that was the least of my problems right now. My hands moved quickly and professionally as I rubbed the medicine into my wounds and used all the gauze to wrap up my foot. This whole amnesia thing was a real bitch to deal with, but words couldn't express how thankful I was that my body and mind could vaguely remember the medical training I had apparently gotten. I'd take that knowledge over random childhood memories any day of the week right now.

The sound of rustling leaves made my blood run cold as I froze in place. All I could picture was a mutilated walking corpse turning around the tree looking for fresh meat. I'd be the perfect early morning meal too considering I wasn't sure if I'd even be able to limp away in time, let alone run away. There was no more creepy rustling of the leaves around me, but I didn't take that as I a sign that I was safe. I shoved the first aid materials into my bag and began to search for the left flip flop I still had and a weapon of any kind.

The shoe was the easiest to find, and I slipped it onto my right foot ignoring how awkward it felt to be wearing a left flip flop on my right foot. The last thing I needed right now was a twig or rock tearing up the gauze. Finding a weapon in this bag was going to be the hardest part. At this point, I was just hoping I'd find a pen or something remotely sharp that I could use in an emergency.

Although, I wasn't really sure what the point would be. Could I really kill a walker with a pen? I doubted that I had the skills to do so and if I was close enough to one of those things that I could jam a pen in its head I'd be beyond hysterical. I lost my mind watching Rick shoot one.

I pushed aside a stack of folded clothes and my eyes widened in disbelief. There at the bottom of my bag was a big ass-hunting knife of some sort. I assumed it was a hunting knife, at least. Hesitantly, I pulled it out by the light brown wooden handle. The handle itself was worn down and connected to a polished silver blade that had the width of about two fingers. The end came to a slightly curved, sharp tip and one side of the blade was serrated. I turned it over in my hand and squinted at the engraved markings on the cold metal. It started at the base and went to the tip, but I hadn't the foggiest idea what it said. In fact, I didn't even know what language it was in. If I had to guess, I'd say maybe Arabic?

A low gurgling groan drifted through the air. Suddenly, I couldn't care less what the damn knife said or why the hell it was sitting in my bag. I zipped up my book bag, slung it over my shoulders, and moved as quickly as I could away from the area. The groan had sounded like it came from behind me so I walked forward. As I trekked through the forest I tried to look around and find some sort of landmark that I would remember from last night, but nothing stood out to me. It wasn't so much that nothing was familiar; the problem was that it was all _too_ familiar. Every tree looked the same and it wasn't as if I was going to find a sign that pointed me in the direction of Atlanta.

The thought of Atlanta put a pit of fear in my gut, but I knew I had no choice. Rick had gone out of his way to stop and pull me out of that wreckage. He could've kept driving to search for his family, but he didn't and thanks to him I hadn't been eaten alive by the monster in the bushes. The possibility existed that Rick was already dead. His situation had been a hell of a lot worse than mine, but I chose not to think that way. Rick seemed like a smart, resourceful guy. He had to have made it out of that mess. Now for all I knew, he could be camped out in some building looking for an opportunity to escape and I was determined to be that opportunity. Fear or no fear, I couldn't do nothing. The idea of it didn't sit right with me.

I walked for about ten minutes at my slow pace before there was movement among the trees ahead of me. Excitement flooded my body at the thought of finding a friendly face, but that quickly died as my eyes landed on the sight of a lone walker stumbling slowly between trees. It was a guy, or at least it used to be. Its face was hollow around the eyes and a large chunk of its cheek was missing. That seemed to be the only wound on it.

How depressing was this new world I had woken up in? To die a terrible death only for your body to continue to roam the earth causing terror and mayhem was such a curse. It was terrible. It was gut wrenching. In that moment, a wave of pity washed over me. I wanted to put this wandering corpse to rest, but the idea of walking over and stabbing the dead guy was terrifying. Could I actually do it? Yesterday had been a different story. I knew more about the situation now. My hand tightened around the knife and I took a shaky step forward. At the sound of my movement though, the walker turned its head in my direction and its blood shot eyes locked onto mine. A quiet squeal of panic slipped from my lips as I stumbled backwards.

The walker was no longer stumbling along anymore. It had a goal and a mission and it was coming towards me at a normal gait. The walker's arms were outstretched towards me as its fingers twitched and its jaw hung loosely. My mind was screaming at me to turn and run, to sprint away until I passed out from exhaustion again, but my body had other plans for me. My feet remained planted where they were with no signs of moving. The walker was only a couple yards away from me now. If my body refused to run then I needed to prep my mind for a fight, but the fear and panic in my head was so loud that I could barely think. The walker let out a growl and I threw my arm forward in pure reaction.

A familiar knife buried itself in the walker's eye socket and the corpse fell backwards at the force of it. It took me a moment before I realized that the knife that had saved my life was my own damn knife. I stumbled over toward the dead walker while staring at my dominant hand in pure disbelief. Did I just do that? Had that really just happened? Hesitantly, I reached down to try and pull the knife out, but at the sight of it sticking through eye like it was I felt sick again and had to take a few steps back.

I took a few steadying breaths and managed to bite back the bulk of the nausea I felt. Granted, I couldn't tell if that self-control came from self-improvement or just being distracted by the pure shock of what I had just done. With one more breath, I closed my eyes and quickly reached down to pull the knife out. A disgusting squishing noise filled the air as the knife tore free from the socket it was lodged in. I turned so my back was to the walker and slowly opened my eyes. The knife had gunk on it, but I thanked the heavens that the eyeball hadn't come up with the blade. I wouldn't have been able to stomach that.

There was more movement happening out of the corner of my eye and I glanced away from my knife in panic, expecting another walker. Instead, a living man stepped out from behind a patch of trees with a crossbow raised in my direction, " _Hey_!"

I threw my hands up in surrender at the sight of him and let the knife fall to the ground, "Don't shoot! Oh God, _please_!"

The man took a step closer. His light brown hair was short and messily brushed the top of his ears and fell about mid-way down his forehead. The guy had a narrowed jaw line and light blueish gray eyes that were currently narrowed at me in suspicion. He wore an olive-green sleeveless shirt over dark pants.

"I'm sorry! I'm- just- _please don't shoot_!" I continued to yell out. Oh God. Here I was terrified of walkers and now I was going to be killed by some redneck with a crossbow. This wasn't right. This was unjust. This was _bullshit_.

He rushed forward a few steps, "Will you shut it?"

"Please! I-"

The guy shifted the crossbow slightly pulled the trigger. I let out a short scream while shutting my eyes tightly. Something heavy fell to the ground behind me and I forced myself to peek one eye open. The redneck had lowered his crossbow, but his glare still remained. I turned slightly to see a walker lying about ten feet behind me with an arrow lodged in its head.

"You…" I breathed in shock and spun back around to stare at him. The guy let out a huff and began to walk towards me again. I flinched as he got near, but he passed by without a second glance. It was then that I noticed he had a line of dead squirrels hanging from his shoulder down his back. He was out hunting. "You _saved_ me."

Once again, he ignored me, but I wasn't about to let that phase me. He was the first living person I'd seen since Rick. Quickly, I grabbed the knife off the ground and rushed toward him just in time to see him yank the arrow out of the walker's head and rub the rotted blood off the bolt and onto his pants.

"Um…sorry, to bug you. Sir?"

The guy turned around and gave me a glance over. His eyes lingered on my feet before tracing back up to my eyes, "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm- uhh…" I began to speak only to draw a sudden blank. What the hell was my name again? Shit, this wasn't happening. What kind of moron forgets their damn name? Even amnesia seemed like a poor excuse for that.

"Well?" He barked.

" _Tori_!" I blurted out as the name came back to mind. Tori? Victoria was my name, but Tori must have been what I went by. I vaguely remembered seeing it on the back of the picture I had found, "My name is Tori." A breath of relief escaped me and I gave him a wide smile, "Thank you so much for saving me."

He still looked skeptical and his eyes darted over to dead walker closest to me. He nodded in its direction, "How'd you kill that one?"

"I threw my knife at it." I rubbed the back of my neck with my free hand. He raised an eyebrow at me, "It was sort of an accident."

He looked even more confused than before, but didn't press further than that on the subject. He scoffed, "You alone?"

"Yes. Well, no, actually- I mean, I am right _now_ , but I have a friend in the city." I shook my head and tried to calm down enough to actually speak in coherent sentences, "We were attacked yesterday and everything… _everything_ went to hell. I ran and sort of passed out, but he could still be in the city! I think he needs my help."

The guy stuck the arrow in his hands with the others and slung the crossbow over his shoulder using the strap that was connected to it, "Your friend's dead."

Without another word, he began to walk away without even a backward glance at me. He got about ten feet away before it actually clicked in my mind that he was leaving me behind.

"Wait! Wait, no!" I yelled and jogged after him. A hiss of pain left my lips, but I refused to slow down. I'd catch up with this guy even if it meant making my injuries worse. The guy didn't slow down or glance back at me. "Can you help me?" I was only a few steps behind him now, "I can't go down there alone. Hell, I don't even know which way Atlanta is, but my friend-"

"Is _dead_. Now, get."

"Please, you don't understand-"

He suddenly stopped and I nearly crashed into his back. The guy whipped around and I jumped back in surprise at his hostile glare, "I said _get_. You're scaring all the game away."

"I'm a hunter too!" I announced without thinking. My eyes narrowed in confusion at the words, but it didn't sound false from my lips. I had no memory of tracking an animal and shooting it dead, but something about that term seemed to define me. It was like an identity that some part of my mind refused to let go, "I mean, I think I am. Pretty sure…ish."

He scoffed and shook his head, "Are you stupid or somethin'?

"No, I just hit my head." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. Now that the fear of being eaten was gone, my mind was focusing back on my left shoulder that stung something awful, my aching face, and not-in-awesome condition foot. What I would give for a bed and a good's night sleep. "It was a car accident and I can't- I can't _remember_ anything except waking up in my car and meeting my friend." I pulled my hand away and focused my gaze on his eyes, "The friend that needs _our_ help!"

He shook his head in irritation, "I told you already. I ain't helpin' you, so get lost."

The guy turned and continued to stalk off. My face scrunched up in determination. I rushed forward and shoved past him so I was standing in his path with my shoulders squared in an attempt to look intimidating. It apparently didn't work because he let out another scoff and tired to push past me. Before he could, I began to speak again, "He saved my life. He's a good guy, a cop. This is his jacket." I motioned toward the patch that looked like a badge as if it were evidence to my words. "I can't help him by myself. I don't know these woods, my face feels like I've been punched repeatedly, something is wrong with my shoulder, plus I-" I let out an exasperated sigh and motioned downward, "I don't even have a real pair of shoes…"

I watched as his eyes glanced back down at my feet. He locked his jaw and I hoped I was somehow winning him over. I pressed my lips together and took a step toward him, "Please. Please, help me. I know you don't owe me anything. In fact, I owe you considering you just saved me, but… _please_?"

He was quiet for a moment, as I took in his features one more time. What had seemed so hard and harsh at first had softened since then. His gaze was still cold, but there was consideration in those blue eyes and maybe even something that looked like a sliver of compassion. He let out an annoyed sigh, "I'm headin' back to my camp. Maybe one of those idiots'll help you out. That 'nough?"

A face splitting grin spread across my features, "Yes! That's fine! Thank you!"

"Fine." He shook his head, "Now keep your damn trap shut an' follow me."

He breezed by me and I didn't hesitate to follow after him with my knife tucked in between my waistband and belt. It was hidden by Rick's jacket, which was too big for me. I licked my lips, "So, can I get your name?"

The guy didn't reply immediately, but after a pause he finally spoke, "Daryl."

I gave him another smile even though he wasn't even looking back at me, "I really appreciate this, Daryl. Thanks again."

"Whatever." He mumbled in return.

The two of us walked together in silence with me staying one step behind him the entire time. Daryl didn't offer any words of conversation or even an apology for lack thereof. It didn't necessarily bother me though. Daryl didn't strike me as the social kind of guy. I still felt lucky that he didn't shoot me for pestering him.

As we walked, I noticed how quiet and careful Daryl's steps were. I tried to match his movements in an attempt to silence my steps, but it wasn't entirely working out in my favor. Maybe it was because of my shoes, or my injuries, or maybe I had just been a lousy hunter, but I seemed to step on every possible twig on the ground. I knew Daryl could tell too because every once in a while he would shoot me an annoyed glare over his shoulder and I would reply with a sheepish smile.

I had been following him a while when Daryl came to a sudden stop. I followed his example and glanced around expecting the worst, "Walker?"

"What?" Daryl hissed in response, sparing me only a quick glance.

"One of the dead guys? Are we in danger?"

"Found that damn deer." He replied gruffly. "Keep quiet."

Daryl continued forward, following a trail that I couldn't see, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was interrupt this guy's little hunting trip, but I was beginning to grow impatient. I really had no concept of time right now. It felt like I had been following Daryl for at least an hour now, but my sensible side told me that probably wasn't true. However, regardless of the exact amount of time that's passed, the longer I spent walking around the woods following Daryl and his deer the lower Rick's chance of survival got.

I laced my hands together and scrunched my face up as I mentally worked up the courage to speak to Daryl. I was fully aware that the sound of my voice was just going to annoy him right now.

"So hey, Daryl? How far is your camp? I mean, are we close at all?"

" _Shh_." He snapped.

I twisted my lips in annoyance hoping that he would turn around and see how personally annoyed I was, but Daryl didn't give me that satisfaction. He just kept walking forward with his crossbow slung across his back right next to the dead squirrels.

It didn't take me as long to build up my courage this second time. Mostly because this time I was fueled by determination and frustration, "Can you just point me in the direction of your camp? I'll go on my own and you can go find your stupid deer."

Daryl stopped and slowly turned around. His glare was intimidating as hell, but I refused to let my hesitance and slight fear show on my face. If I could face walkers then I could handle some redneck jerk, "Listen, I don't even have to show you where the damn camp is. You think I'mma let some injured, loud mouth go runnin' 'round the woods?" Daryl scoffed then sneered at me, "You'd get yourself killed an' your blood'd be on my hands."

I put my hands on my hips, "I killed that walker back there just fine on my own!"

"Then you just 'bout lost your damn mind when I showed up!"

"You were pointing a _crossbow_ at me!"

I didn't want to argue with this guy. He had saved my life, and then offered me help at his camp, and now I was barking at him in the middle of his hunt. I felt ungrateful, but I couldn't just linger behind him and stay quiet. I was tired, I was hurt, I was scared, and above all else I wanted to fix what had gone wrong. His glares and slow pace had only pushed my aggravation right over my apparent limit.

"Can't believe I let you follow me." Daryl muttered and shook his head.

"I can't believe I followed you." I retorted. "I tried to explain nicely that I was on a time crunch, but you-"

"Keep your damn voice down, woman." Daryl barked roughly. "Any louder and you'd be-"

Two shrill screams echoed faintly through the air. Both sounded young. I blinked in shock, " _Screaming_?"

Daryl pulled his crossbow into a ready position and suddenly took off into the woods without pause. He didn't glance back to see if I was following and something told me that at this point he didn't really care. I tried to race after him, to keep his pace, but my foot just couldn't take it after a minute or so of following him. For a moment, his figure was still in my line of sight, but it eventually disappeared. Hopefully, the redneck didn't take any sudden turns and I'd make it to wherever he was going just by going straight.

A few minutes of me struggling through the woods passed before faint voices drifted through the air. I was still too far to make out what the voices were saying, but I took them as a good sign. I picked up my pace as much as I could and a minute or so later I could hear Daryl yelling.

"- _motherless, proxy, bastard_!"

I rolled my eyes. Yes, that was most definitely the voice of the redneck I had been following. Any annoyance I had felt toward him earlier though passed because I could hear more than just his voice now. Someone else was speaking and that meant I had made it to his camp. I was now one step closer to helping the lost cop in the big, graveyard of a city.

With a groan, I fought with the thick bushes that blocked me from where the voices were coming from. My arms chaotically shoved the branches away, but one slipped and caught me in my already sore face. Luckily, it wasn't a thick branch and only the leaves hit me. It still stung like a bitch though and I cursed under my breath before throwing myself through the last of the brush and stepping into a wide, circular clearing.

"Come on, people. What the hell?" Daryl cried out and I took in the sight of him standing next to a dead deer that had its throat ripped out. Beside it was a headless body, and just a few feet from that headless body was the head itself. Despite being disconnected from the body, the head was slightly rocking side to side as it snapped its mouth in hunger. I paled at the sight of it. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothin'?"

An arrow suddenly lodged into the head's eye socket making me jump in shock. I lifted my gaze to see Daryl scoff at the damn thing. I threw my hands up in his direction and he glanced over at the movement, "Hi. Remember me?"

Daryl rolled his eyes and didn't reply. Instead, he bent over to grab his arrow. Rather than watching the disgusting sight of an arrow being pulled out of a head, I took in the rest of my surroundings. I remembered the other voices I heard and realized that me that Daryl weren't the only ones in the clearing.

There were four other men in the clearing, but before I could soak in their details I noticed a very familiar face staring at me with wide eyes and disbelief written on his face.

" _Rick_?" I gasped. He had traded his police uniform for blue jeans and a white t-shirt, but this was him. I lunged forward and pulled him into a tight hug. The relief of seeing this familiar face alive and well made me squeeze my arms around him tightly, ignoring the sharp pain from my shoulder. He chuckled and returned the hug, but I was quick to yank myself back so I could look at him again. "I thought you were- I ran into the woods and blacked out. I wanted to go back and find you, but I got lost out there. I'm _so_ sorry! Rick-"

Rick shook his head and used his free hand to grip my uninjured shoulder comfortingly, "Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. God, I can't believe you're here." He chuckled again, "I actually planned to go back to the city to see if I could find you. That and I needed to…" His voice trailed away and I watched as his eyes darted over to Daryl who was looking over the dead deer in irritation and disgust. His clear, blue eyes snapped back to me briefly before he turned to the guy standing on his left, "This is who I was talking about."

The guy on his left was the youngest of the men, looking to be in his early twenties. He had a red, baseball cap over his jet-black hair and wore a dark blue t-shirt with a white, light blue striped button up over it. If I had to take a guess, I'd say he was either Japanese or Korean, but I couldn't tell for sure. "Oh, the one with amnesia?" He shrugged at Rick, "I told you she had a better chance of getting out of the city than we did." His friendly, dark brown eyes turned back to me as he offered me a smile, "My name is Glenn. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you." I replied with a bob of my head, "I'm, uh, I'm Victoria."

"I'm Dale." An older man standing next to Glenn spoke up. He wore a white wife beater with a tropical colored button up shirt over it, light cargo pants, and a fishing hat. He had a white and gray beard and a bright smile, "Do you go by Victoria entirely? Or maybe Vicky?"

I didn't like the sound of 'Vicky' whatsoever. I shook my head once, "You can call me Tori."

Dale nodded and Rick cleared his throat to regain my attention. He smiled at me and motioned to the guy who was standing on his right. He wore a tight, brown shirt with a gold badge insignia on the left side of his chest. The shirt was tucked into dark green cargo pants and I couldn't help but notice the gun at his hip. "This is Shane. He was my partner back in King's County."

Shane readjusted the tan baseball cap over his curly black hair in greeting, "Ma'am."

I nodded back at him in slight confusion. This Shane guy was staring at me skeptically, nearly a glare. Rick began to speak again and my gaze shot back to him, "Victoria, my wife and kid are here. Lori and Carl are _here_."

"That's fantastic, Rick!" I congratulated him and he broke out in a wide grin that made his face light up. The words were said with sincerity. I was beyond happy that Rick had found his family, but there was an ache in my chest that reminded me that I hadn't. I hadn't found my family, I hadn't even figured out who they were, and now I felt alone in that battle. I didn't have an ally by my side looking for their loved ones too. "I'm- I'm really happy for you."

And once again, I meant every word.

" _Merle_!" Daryl yelled and it was only then that I realized he was still in the clearing. I glanced over my shoulder in time to see Daryl walk away from the deer and toward what I assumed to be the edge of camp. Rick and Shane were quickly following after him. I narrowed my eyes in confusion again. Rick shot me a quick glance before turning his attention away. What exactly was going on right now? What had I walked into?

"So you have an… _interesting_ choice of shoes." Glenn spoke up. He came up to walk on my left as Dale came to stand on my right.

I glanced down sheepishly, "Yeah, I lost a boot in the car accident. Flip flops were all I had left, but I lost my right flip flop while running and now… Now I'm just kind of a train wreck."

Glenn laughed and Dale shook his head in reassurance, "We'll find you a real pair of shoes to wear. Get your injuries bandaged up too. Rick mentioned that you were an ER doctor?"

I shrugged as the three of us began to walk toward the camp, "I think I wanted to be. I mean, I remember graduating, but I don't think I ever got to do my residency."

"That's still very impressive." Dale replied.

Glenn nodded, "And helpful. Very, very helpful."

Up ahead was an RV parked at the top of a small slope with a few other cars around it, including a jeep on one side and an expensive looking red car that had been stripped for parts. It was missing a tire and the hood was propped open as someone dug around in the front engine wearing a blue, work jumpsuit. In front of the RV, was a small group of women, two blondes and one brunette, who were whispering to each other and glancing over in the direction we came from. There were a few other people sitting around a small campfire that had a pot sitting over it, and even more people on the opposite side of where the RV was standing on the downward slope to where a patch of tents were set up.

"Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel." Daryl yelled. Rick and Shane were just a few steps behind him as he set his crossbow down and kept the line of squirrels hanging off his shoulder. "Let's stem 'em up."

Shane cleared his throat and stepped around the redneck to stand in his path. Much like I had done in the woods earlier. I couldn't see Daryl's reaction to this, though I could guess he was wearing the annoyed glare I had gotten so used to, but I could see the looks on the faces of the people all around the camp. The women by the RV had dread in their eyes and it was only then that I realized they hadn't been looking at me when Glenn, Dale, and I came strolling up. They were watching the happenings of the group of men that came before us. I glanced back over at Shane who spoke up, "Daryl, just give me a sec. I need to talk to you."

A hand wrapped around the crook of my elbow and I glanced over to see a wide-eyed Glenn begin to tug me toward the RV. I shot him a questioning look and even started to dig my heels into the ground, but the look he shot me was downright pleading.

"Trust me, you'll thank me later." He murmured.

"What you got to say?" Daryl's voice seemed loud, but I guessed that was only because of how quiet everyone else was being around us. I glanced back over at the redneck and noticed how tense his shoulders seemed. Even when I was bugging him out in the woods, the guy seemed relaxed and sure of every step he took, but now he was on edge and stiff.

Shane cupped the back of his neck and slowly shook his head, "It's about Merle. There was a- there was a problem in Atlanta."

"Merle was Daryl's older brother." Dale stage whispered from my left making me slightly jump. I hadn't even realized that he followed Glenn and I over to the RV. My focus drifted back to his words though. Something had apparently happened to Daryl's brother in Atlanta, and I seriously doubted that something was anything good. The trip through the woods hadn't exactly made Daryl and I best buddies, but my heart went out for the guy.

Daryl apparently didn't need Shane to elaborate on the statement, "He dead?"

"We're not sure." Shane replied and I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

This conversation had taken a turn I hadn't expected, and Daryl must have felt the same way considering he took a step toward the officer, "He either is or he ain't!"

Daryl took a few steps back from Shane and turned so he was now facing me. Any glare I had seen on him before paled in comparison to the one he wore now. His eyebrows were drawn together in anger and frustration and his jaw was clenched tightly. Daryl's head snapped to the side as Rick stepped forward, "There's no easy way to say it, so I'll just say it."

It must have really sucked for Rick to be the bearer of bad news this many times within a 24-hour period. Daryl was facing Rick now, rather than Shane, so I could still see the side of his face, "Who the hell are you?"

"Rick Grimes."

" _Rick Grimes_." Daryl scoffed as his voice took an edge of defensiveness. It almost sounded mocking, "You got somethin' you want to tell me?"

Rick took a deep breath, "Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on the roof. Hooked him to a piece of metal."

It took a few seconds before the statement made actual sense in my head. Rick handcuffed a guy to a roof? How big of a danger had he been to lead to a punishment like that? Unless, Rick overshot the situation. Had the officer overreacted? Rick seemed like a levelheaded guy, a _good_ levelheaded guy.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and glanced over to see an African American guy walk into camp carrying an armful of chopped wood. There had been a pleasant look on his face, but the moment he noticed the tense situation happening the small smile fell and he juggled the wood in his arms, nearly dropping them all.

"Hold on. Lemme process this." My eyes shot back to a livid Daryl, "You're sayin', you handcuffed my brother to a roof…" Daryl shook his head as fire filled his glare, "And then you _left 'im there_!?"

Rick didn't immediately answer. His eyes darted away, his jaw clenched then unclenched, then finally he glanced back at Daryl with a quick nod, "Yeah."

More tense silence filled the area. Everyone was waiting on baited breath to see what would happen. Daryl didn't move, I wasn't even sure if he was actually breathing, he just glared at Rick. Suddenly, Daryl ripped the line of dead squirrels off his shoulder and chucked them at Rick's head. I gasped as Rick ducked under the dead animals.

Daryl charged forward with a yell, but Shane interrupted the attack by tackling him to the ground. I took a step back as the two men on the ground wrestling came a bit closer, and Glenn side-stepped so his left side was partially in front of me. Daryl shoved Shane off him and rolled to his feet. In one fluid motion, he pulled the knife out from the sheath on his belt and lunged back towards Rick.

"Rick!" I yelled out in a poor attempt to warn him. It was pure reaction to cry out and I nearly added that he should watch out for the knife. As Rick ducked under Daryl's bladed attacks, I was certain that Rick was very, very aware of the damn knife. Someone shouted something from off to the side, but I didn't catch the words and I couldn't tear my eyes away from the fight to see who spoke.

In a few quick movements, movements that were a blur to me, Rick managed to knock the knife out of Daryl's hand and kick it away from the scene. Shane came up from behind and wrapped his arms around Daryl's neck in a tight headlock.

"You best let me go!" Daryl roared as he grabbed at Shane's arm and tried to shake the man off.

"Nah", Shane shook his head. I could see his muscles flex as he tightened the hold, "I think it's better if I don't."

Daryl grunted and continued to struggle, "Choke hold's illegal!"

"You can file a complaint." Shane replied. Daryl refused to stop struggling and Shane scoffed, "Come on man, I can keep this up all day."

Rick stepped forward as Shane forced Daryl down to his knees, arms still around his neck. Rick knelt down so he was eye level with the redneck, "I would like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?" Daryl only glared at Rick in response and unsuccessfully tried to shake Shane off him again. Rick repeated his words, "Do you think we can manage that?"

Daryl stopped struggling finally and sucked in deep breaths of air. His glare was still leveled at Rick, but neither men made the move to talk. Shane released Daryl and took a few, wide steps back. The redneck fell forward so hands were pressed into the dirt. His face couldn't be seen, but his shoulders heaved up and down a few times before he shoved himself off the ground hard enough that he rolled back into a seated position. It was only in that moment that I noticed the absolute grief and frustration in his eyes. Before, the anger and confusion had been so prominent that nothing else really stood out, but now I couldn't notice any other emotion.

"What I did was not on a whim." Rick spoke up. He was still knelt down in front of Daryl. "Your brother does not work and play well with others."

Daryl scoffed at the words and turned his head to the side so he was no longer looking at Rick, and I could no longer see his face.

"It's not Rick's fault." The same someone who yelled earlier spoke again. The guy carrying the wood stepped further into the clearing and tossed the wood aside in the direction of the small campfire.

Glenn leaned toward me, but his eyes remained glued to the scene, "That's T-Dog. He was there."

I nodded, but I wasn't sure if Glenn even noticed. T-Dog was coming closer to the scene, but stopped when he was still a few feet away. He began to shake his head, guilt lined his features, "I had the key, but…I dropped it, man."

"You couldn't pick it up!?" Daryl barked from the ground. He turned his body so he could look over his shoulder at T-Dog. The man flinched and I assumed Daryl was shooting him the nastiest of glares he could manage.

"I dropped it in a _drain_." T-Dog finished.

Daryl scoffed again and dropped his gaze to the ground between his legs. Seeing the man sitting on the ground, so defeated and alone, made me feel guilty and I hadn't even been a part of what happened to his brother. Still, I was part of the group that stood around him watching the scene unfold. I was part of the group that was watching his pain.

He slowly moved back to all fours and pushed himself off the ground. Rick quickly stood back up, his back rim rod straight, as Daryl rocked on his heels. Daryl scoffed and turned to storm past T-Dog. He threw his arm out, sending a handful of dirt at the man's legs.

"If that's supposed to make me feel better, it _don't_."

"Maybe this will." T-Dog blurted and Daryl came to a hesitant stop, "Look, I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get to him." Geeks? It sounded like he was talking about the Walkers. I doubted a herd of men in glasses with pocket protectors were trying to get to the man left on the roof. "I used a padlock."

Rick spoke up, "It's gotta count for something."

Daryl turned completely so he was facing the men again. He glanced away briefly, rubbing his face with the back of his hand, then threw that same hand out with a scoff, "Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is so's I can go get 'im."

The scene had been so intense and drama filled that I had completely forgotten about the women who stood only a few feet away from me. They didn't cross my mind again until the skinny, dark haired woman separated from the group with her arms crossed, "He'll _show_ you." There was bitterness in her voice and I wasn't the only one staring at her. Her eyes, however, were glued to Rick. "Isn't that right?"

I glanced over at Glenn hoping I'd get another side note explaining who the hell she was, but he was too engrossed in the conversation happening. Rick rubbed his jawline with his hand, not letting his gaze leave from the woman. Slowly, he nodded and glanced back over in Daryl's direction, "I'm going back." Rick's eyes suddenly darted over to me and the eye contact I made with him surprised me. Something about all of this made me want to be unseen. Just a fly on the wall. "I was already planning on it for…"

I assumed the end of that sentence was meant for me, but it caused others to look in my direction. I could feel their curious eyes and it made me want to sink into the ground. What the hell was even happening? I had been in this camp for less than ten minutes and already it felt suffocating. As much as I wanted to be around people, I also didn't want to deal with a bunch of drama. I had enough issues of my own to handle.

Curiously, I glanced back over at the dark haired woman to see she had been staring at me too. Awkwardly, I offered her a small smile, but she turned on her heel in response and marched into the RV. What was her problem?

A familiar scoff made me glance over to see Daryl marching out of camp. At his departure, others began to break apart and go back to whatever it was they had been doing before all this.

"Hey." Glenn caught my attention, then nodded in a different direction.

I followed the nod to see Rick quickly walking toward me. Behind him, Shane was looking off in to the distance shaking his head in distaste, "Listen", My eyes darted back to his worried features, "I have to… _never mind_. You need to get your wounds properly cleaned. You need to get off that foot too."

"Oh." I mumbled and glanced back down at my gauzed up foot. Blood was beginning to spread from the bottom to the top of the bandages.

"I got her." Glenn offered. Rick gave him a quick, relieved nod before setting his hand against my elbow briefly then turning to leave.

Dale lifted his arm toward the RV, "I have an old first aid kit in one of my cabinets."

"Thanks, guys." I said toward both men. Dale took the lead and didn't hesitate to enter the RV. Glenn walked beside me, but I noticed his steps slow down as we got near the two blonde women who were still standing outside the RV door. They glanced over at me, and now I could see the similarities between the two of them. They had to be sisters or cousins or something.

"Hi there!" One of them spoke up brightly. She wore a white shirt decorated with black stars and her blonde hair fell around her shoulders in a straight curtain. She definitely looked like the younger of the two. "I'm Amy. This is my sister Andrea."

I glanced over at Andrea who had her wavy, blonde hair tied up in a messy bun. She wore a white tank top with a denim-patterned shirt over it. She offered a friendly smile that I returned before looking back to Amy, "Nice to meet you both. I'm Vic- uh, I'm Tori."

"Tori?" Dale's voice called from the RV. I excused myself from the two of them before hurrying into the RV. Dale stood near the back, where a medium sized bed sat, digging through a lower cabinet, "I'm certain it's here somewhere."

"It's ok if you can't find it, Dale." I replied before glancing over at a small table where three pairs of eyes were stared at me. One was the brunette woman from earlier, but the other two were kids, one boy and one girl. The little girl had short sandy, brown hair and wore a purple shirt. Freckles decorated her cheeks, and the moment she noticed my attention was on her she sunk in her seat and averted her eyes. The boy next to her had a white shirt had a paw print on the front. He also had dark brown hair and blue eyes that looked vaguely familiar. I grinned at him, "Hey, you must be Rick's boy, right? Umm…Carl?"

The boy's face lit up, "Yeah! Are you Victoria? My dad talked about you."

"That's me. You can call me Tori though." I introduced myself.

Carl motioned toward the girl next to him, "This is my friend, Sophia."

"Hi Sophia." I said in the friendliest tone I could muster, "It's really nice to meet you."

"Hi." She met my eyes shyly, but there was a small smile on her features now.

The woman across from them suddenly stood up and my eyes shot to her. She was offering me a smile, but it didn't reach her distrusting, hazel eyes. She must have still been pissed about what happened earlier, "It's good to know you made it out of Atlanta. I'm Lori, Rick's wife."

This was his wife? The thought had occurred to me in the back of my head, I suppose. I guess I had just assumed that her and Rick would've been too ecstatic to see each other again to fight so soon. It made sense the more I thought of it though. She was probably pissed he was already planning to go out again, but it wasn't like Rick had a bad reason. Still, it must have been hard on her.

I readjusted my smile, "Oh, yeah. Hi, it's nice to meet you."

Lori crossed her arms, "So, you're the _girl_ that Rick saved off the side of the road."

First things first, I didn't appreciate being referred to as a 'girl' in such a negative, derogative tone. Not only did it seem kind of disrespectful, toward someone she was just meeting, but also it meant she saw me as a child. A child she didn't really feel like dealing with. Everything about that single sentence shocked me and it took me a moment to find something to say back to her.

"Um. Yeah. That's me, I guess." I pressed my lips together in confusion. Had I offended her in some way already? Was she unhappy that her husband saved my damn life?

"Found it!" Dale shouted. Lori glanced over her shoulder, but I didn't tear my eyes away from her. Maybe all of this could be equated back to her having a pissy day. I'd give her the benefit of the doubt. "Here you go, Tori."

Lori sat back down at the table and now Dale stood where she had been. I took the medium sized box from him, "Thanks so much, Dale. Is there somewhere I can wash up? I can bandage myself up afterwards."

"Well sure. There's a lake right down the hill in the old quarry." Dale motioned toward the door and the two of us began to leave, "Do you need help with your wounds?"

"Nah, I should be able to handle it, I think."

Andrea and Amy were still right outside of the RV, but Glenn had disappeared from sight. Dale spoke up from behind me, "Do you think you can show Tori down to the quarry to get cleaned up?"

"Sure thing." Andrea nodded.

"You're in good hands." Dale commented before walking away from the RV.

I turned back to face the sisters when Lori spoke up from behind me suddenly, "Tori?" When I spun around, Lori was only a few steps away standing at the base of the RV stairs. "Can I have my husband's jacket?"

"What?" I replied and she narrowed her eyes before motioning toward me with her hand. It suddenly dawned on me that I was still wearing Rick's jacket. "Oh. Right, yeah, sorry." Quickly, I held the first aid kit between my legs, took my book bag off, and then shrugged out of the jacket before handing it over to her, "Sorry about the er- blood stains. I sort of bled...a lot."

Lori smiled firmly before folding the jacket in her hands and turning back into the RV. After pulling my bag back on, I turned back around Andrea and Amy wore amused looks on their faces as they gave each other knowing, side glances.

"So…" I broke the silence that had formed, "Quarry?"

"Follow us." Amy chirped and began to march down the campsite's hill.

I walked after her, Andrea right behind me, and was surprised to hear the woman let out a low hiss, "Damn, your shoulder looks rough."

While still walking, I glanced over my right shoulder to try and catch a look at it, "Really?" The shirt on top of my shoulder was stained a dark red and with the way it hurt I was sure the injury must have been pretty bad. "It's probably from the car accident."

"Hey!" Glenn's voice rang out. I focused back in the direction we were walking in to see Glenn standing off to the side by a dark blue tent. In his hands was a pair of low cut, dark brown boots. The boots seemed designed more for fashion than survival, but I was hardly in the position to start being picky.

I smiled, "Those for me?"

"Yeah, I had Glenn grab them from Andrea and I's tent." Amy replied, "It's not like I'm wearing them or need more than one pair these days."

Glenn stepped beside me and began to walk by my side, "So you and Rick met by the side of the road, right?"

"Yeah, I was in a car accident. He pulled me out of the wreckage." I nodded. Andrea picked up her pace so she could walk by her sister ahead of Glenn and I. I could tell the two of them were still listening to what I said though. "Rick caught me up to speed for the most part. I couldn't really remember anything."

Amy spoke up without glancing back, "That must be so horrible. You don't even remember your family?"

Her words made my heart ache as I once again realized that I truly didn't remember shit. Sure, it was nice to have the knowledge to care for wounds and what not and I was happy to have those memories back in the woods, but now that I was safe for the moment I kind of preferred it the other way.

"Nope." I replied bluntly and hoped that my tone didn't sound too discouraging.

Glenn nodded, "He mentioned that he was taking you to Atlanta to see if you could find a familiar face."

I smiled, "Yeah. Hey, he found his family. Maybe I'll have similar luck?"

"I'm sure you will." Glenn replied encouragingly.

The sisters delved into a conversation of their own, and by their hushed tones I figured it was one that wasn't meant for my ears. However, Glenn was great company to have. The laid-back man pointed out different people as we passed them and even stopped to introduce me if we were close enough and they weren't busy.

I got to meet a frail woman named Carol with very short, gray hair and kind smile. She was apparently the mother to Sophia, the girl from earlier, but when I asked Glenn about the father he brushed over the topic and moved on quickly. Glenn also introduced me to an African American woman with pretty short hair and welcoming demeanor. He pointed out a man by a tent, whom they called Morales, who was apparently here with his family, a wife and two kids. There were a few other faces that Glenn pointed out, but it started to get hard remembering the names to those I didn't get to actually meet and briefly talk to.

"Oh, here's the lake, Tori!" Amy cheered from up ahead. Her and Andrea had walked ahead of Glenn and I once we started meeting people.

I stepped out of the forest line onto a rocky shore and stared in amazement at the area this group had decided to camp. There was a lake of clear, blue water nestled between the tall white, rocks of the quarry's walls.

"You can go behind those rocks over there and wash up. Glenn will run and grab you a towel and maybe something to eat too." Amy said and pointed toward a large boulder off to the left that blocked off a portion of the lake.

Glenn raised an eyebrow at her, "I will?"

"Why not? You gonna stick around hoping for a peep show?" Andrea questioned.

Glenn stiffened and I glanced over to see a blush cover his tan cheeks. He shook his head adamantly and turned to me, "What? No. I swear that isn't- I'm not-"

"I think she's joking, Glenn." I chuckled and tried to put the poor guy out of his misery.

He quickly gave me the boots, that I held in one arm, "I'm just gonna go get you that stuff."

Glenn rushed away, back towards camp, and the sister began to laugh. I chuckled again to myself, "Thanks for everything guys."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stick around and help you out? That shoulder wound is in a weird place." Andrea offered.

"No, it's fine. Really." I replied without hesitation. Even if I did need help, which I probably would considering I couldn't actually see the wound, I really wanted a moment to myself with no one hovering and asking questions.

Amy smiled, "Ok. I'll wait for Glenn to come back with the stuff then I'll bring it over."

"Thanks, Amy." I nodded and without waiting for more to be said, turned and headed over toward the large boulder. There was nobody, dead or alive, over by the boulder or in the water behind it, but I still took the time to look around with my hand around the knife hanging from my belt.

Once I was satisfied that things were safe, I tossed my book bag to the rocky shore, tore out the hair accessories that were embedded in my hair at this point, and then began to strip out of the bloody clothes I wore. The jeans I had on were salvageable if I didn't mind the blood splatters decorating them, but the shirt was beyond repair. There was no point in keeping the bloody gauze on my foot so I tore it off. The decision to leave my undergarments on was made in seconds and I wasted no time in wading into the cool water. A chill went up my spine at the temperature, but I didn't let that stop me from going neck deep and then ducking under.

For that brief moment underwater I didn't have to worry about a damn thing. I didn't have memory loss, I wasn't trapped in a nightmare of a world, and things made sense. I was just someone trying to detangle her messy hair. However, I couldn't stay under forever and soon enough I was gasping for air and just as troubled as I had been at the beginning of this impromptu bath. Amy came back a few minutes after I had come up for air and set down a towel and some food by my bag before leaving again.

I did the best I could scrubbing dirt and blood off my body. My shoulder and foot were constantly stinging under the water, but those spots needed the most cleaning. I took the time to rinse out and rub all my wounds, including the small one above my eyebrow. I got as clean as I was going to without any soap then forced myself out of the water.

Awkwardly, I limped over to the towel trying not to put too much pressure on my bad foot. The sharp rocks and pebbles were doing nothing good for me. Once I wrapped the towel around my body I sat down with a sigh. Amy had brought me an open can of green beans that I dug into. In everything that had happened, I hadn't even noticed how hungry I was.

After devouring the entire contents of the can, I tossed the can aside and opened the first aid kit, which was more well-stocked than my own. I readjusted the towel covering my body then began to dig through the front pockets in hopes that I'd find a mirror or something with a reflective front. In the very front pocket of my bag was a small compact mirror that I held in my hand curiously. One of the reasons I turned down help from the others was because I knew that if I had a mirror I'd be able to care for the wounds myself. What were the chances that I'd actually find a mirror in my bag? Was it a total coincidence or did some part of me, deep down, remember packing a small mirror in my bag?

A sigh tore through my body as I pushed the thoughts away and focused on the task at hand. It took me only a minute or two to properly clean and place a butterfly bandage over the wound above my eye. Then I spent the next five minutes cleaning the wounds on my foot, applying medicine, and rewrapping it with fresh bandages. There was no way for me to prep for my shoulder wound mainly because I had no idea what it looked like still. I took a steadying breath then dropped the top portion of my towel so my arms didn't have to worry about keeping it tucked in.

It wasn't easy using the small mirror to see the wound on my back, but I somehow managed to get a good look at the wound by peeking over my shoulder to see the reflection. My teeth clenched in a grimace. The wound was not pretty to say the least. It was about three or four inches long, going downward toward my hip, and not very large width wise. The sides of the wound were jagged, like it had been a tear rather than a cut, and luckily it also didn't seem too deep.

"Shit." I breathed and reached over my shoulder with my opposite hand to touch the tender edges. A hiss of pain escaped my lips so I pulled back my hand and went to grab a gauze pad to place over it. My shoulder more than likely needed stitches, but there was no way I could stitch myself from this position. Not well, at least.

The gauze pad was in my hand and I was about to place it on the wound when something odd occurred to me. The wound looked old. Not too old, but it looked a lot older than a wound I got yesterday. How had I gotten it anyway? It had to be part of the car accident, but what exactly had torn my skin like this? I dropped the mirror as realization hit me like a truck. With my now free hand, I picked my dirty shirt off the ground and shook it in my hand until I was looking at the blood stained, shoulder area. There was no tear in the shirt. My shoulder was jacked to hell, but my shirt was hole free in the area. Did this mean I got the wound before the car accident? What had I been doing to get hurt like this? Had it been some other kind of accident or had I been attacked?

The blood drained from my face and my heart seized in my chest at the thought of being attacked. Sure, it was a terrifying thought in any day or age, but now it was so much worse. What if I had been attacked by one of those walkers? Rick mentioned that if someone got bit by one they'd get sick, die, and come back like them, but did scratches count too? What if this jagged tear came from the diseased, deadly nails from one of the dead?

I threw the shirt aside and picked the mirror up one more time to examine the wound again. I had no idea what I was looking for. Evidence that this wasn't an attack from a walker? There was no way I could see or prove otherwise. The only way I'd find out was if I got sick in a few days or not. I wasn't craving human flesh yet, and that was a good sign right? Quickly, I forced myself to take a steadying breath and continued on with covering the wound with the bandage. It took me longer to tape down the gauze here then it did fixing any other wound, but I think that could be equated to my now shaking hands.

The sound of voices drifted through the air, I didn't recognize any, but they came from the other side of the rock so I assumed they were probably from this group. There was only a small amount of gauze left in the first aid kit I was using so I transferred it to my own to use later. Then I put away the left over medical supplies, stuffed the mirror back into the bag, and pulled out all the clothes I had in my bag. There was something heavy at the bottom of my bag, but I could figure out what it was later. Right now I wanted to be less exposed.

There was only one new outfit in the bag, but I was more than happy with that. It consisted of a pair of comfortable jeans, socks, fresh underwear, a clean bra, and a white t-shirt. After glancing around to make sure the area was still clear, I quickly stripped off the wet, dirty undergarments and replaced them. It felt absolutely heavenly to wear the clean items and it only got better once I pulled on the jeans. As I unfolded the white t-shirt, I realized not only was it too big for me, but it was actually a man's shirt. I rotated it in my hands and found the initials ' _DW'_ on the tag in permanent marker.

"Hey." A man called out and I jumped in surprise. I glanced around but there was still no one around that I could see. The voice spoke again from behind the large boulder, "You decent?"

"Um, hang on." I called back and pulled the shirt over my head carefully. "I'm good."

Seconds later, Shane stepped around the rock with his eyes on me. As he came closer, I sat down and began to pull the new socks over my feet followed by Amy's boots. Shane remained standing a few feet in front of me not saying a word. Cautiously, I lifted my gaze back up at him. Shane didn't look happy, he wore a look of skepticism and annoyance.

"Is there something wrong?"

Shane rubbed his jawline and looked away with a nod, "Good question. Is there?" His eyes landed back on me and now it was my turn to be skeptical. What exactly was he getting at? I pushed myself off the ground and picked up my book bag to wear over my shoulder. "You kind of came out of nowhere, didn't you?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, "I wouldn't say nowhere. You make it sound like I appeared out of thin air." I walked away from him to pick up my dirty jeans and the knife that sat on the ground beside it.

"Listen, I'm taking care of this group and if I want things to work smoothly 'round here then I need to run a tight ship." Shane said firmly. "Now I typically don't let strangers in lightly. Especially not without talking to them first. To get a feel for them."

I unlaced the belt from my dirty jeans and began to put it on. His skepticism made sense now. Shane was trying to keep the people here safe from any unsavory characters, and I couldn't blame him for that. People were crazy before the world ended, who knew what they were like now. I began to try to stick the knife through the belt loop again, but frowned when it felt strange under my now large shirt. Without hesitation, I stuck it into the side of my boot, "I can understand that."

"You snuck in during that ordeal with Daryl." Shane replied, "Rick seems to trust you plenty for some reason, but I'm not so naïve."

"I don't know if I'd call Rick naïve." I readjusted my bag strap. Shane looked like he didn't agree with my statement, but I didn't feel like an argument right now. "So what do you wanna know, Officer Shane?" Shane didn't reply and instead just stared at me for a moment. His gaze was puzzling, like he was trying to solve some sort of problem in his mind. I crossed my arms, "What?"

Shane shook his head, "You look familiar is all. You ever been to King's County?"

I recognized it as the town Rick was from and shook my head, "Not that I recall, but then again I don't exactly recall much." Shane shot me a quick glare and I sighed, "Sorry, but I honestly don't know. I think I was coming from Texas originally. Maybe I stopped there for gas or something?"

"Maybe…" Shane said slowly, but the look in his eye told me he hadn't given up on trying to figure this out quite yet. "I'm gonna drop this for now 'cause I got bigger fish to fry and admittedly, it'd be nice to have a doctor around." The urge to correct him rose up. Yes, all the signs pointed toward me graduating medical school. Yes, I had this medical knowledge buzzing around in the back of my mind, showing its face occasionally. That was all true, but there was some internal part of me that refused to identify in that way. It just didn't feel right. Shane continued speaking, "I'm warning you right now though." He took a step forward, his eyes leveled in a glare toward me. "You try anything, you threaten anyone here…"

He left his words hanging, the silence was a warning itself, but my full attention was on his body language. Shane was trying to be intimidating, trying to make sure I stayed in line, but it wasn't working on me. This guy was in full on ' _cop'_ mode. I would bet money that the look on his face was the same one he gave criminals who stepped out of line, to people who threatened the safety of his town, but it didn't fill me with apprehension. Maybe it was because I wasn't worried about the threat? It wasn't like I planned to step out of line and hurt someone. However, the glare he was giving me seemed like the kind that could shake anyone to his or her core. Why wasn't that freaking me out? Why did I feel more like he was offering me a challenge?

"Got it, Shane." I nodded. Despite my conflicting thoughts, I did slightly admire the man for standing up. He was in full protector mode for every woman, man, and child in this camp. That was good of him. Brave, even. I admired this strength of his though I did question his sense of paranoia. I seriously doubted I looked that dangerous to him or anyone else. "I won't step a toe out of line."

Shane nodded and his glare lessened as his features softened slightly, "How are your injuries? You looked like hell an hour ago when you walked into camp."

Had I already been here for an hour? Most of that time must have been lost with me bathing. I offered him a smile, "They're non-fatal." I hoped. "I'm more worried about the mental injury than the physical."

"Right. Amnesia." Shane replied, but his face was turned away from me so I couldn't see his reaction. He bent over to pick up the first aid kit that I hadn't grabbed yet then motioned toward me with a small nod. The two of us began to make the trek back to camp. "Bet that's a bitch to deal with."

"Well, it's no picnic."

Shane glanced over at me, "Glenn said you were bleeding buckets from your shoulder. It don't need stitches?"

"I wouldn't say buckets." I chuckled. Although, I had lost enough blood from the wound to black out yesterday. Though I was positive that exhaustion played a huge role in that too. "And nope. Wasn't too bad, I cleaned it up and bandaged it over."

Shane nodded and I thanked the heavens that the lie sounded so true coming off my lips. That ugly, gaping tear on my back 100% needed stitches. Someone with no medical knowledge whatsoever would be able to see that. The last thing I wanted though was for someone else to see the wound. What if they saw it and assumed it was from a walker? It wasn't like I had a legitimate story against that theory. The whole scenario would cause a panic and that's the last thing I wanted to deal with. This camp had enough drama on it's own without me adding to it.

I couldn't help but wonder if I was being selfish though. What if this _was_ a walker scratch? What if it did make me sick and come back as one of them? No one else in camp would know until I crawled out of my tent and devoured someone.

"You in pain?"

"Hmm?"

"You got this sick look on your face all of a sudden." Shane commented. The light grew brighter up ahead because of the open clearing. It was the area I had been in earlier. "Did you take any medicine?"

I shook my head, "No. I forgot to." The pain wasn't unbearable right now, and my headache was barely even noticeable anymore.

Without missing a step, Shane popped the kit open and dug through to find a white bottle. He shut the box and tossed the bottle in my direction. I reached out and barely caught it in time, "Take a couple. The last thing anyone needs is pain distracting them when they're out in the open."

"I thought I was supposed to be the doctor." I joked as the two of us reached the clearing. Shane offered me an small, amused smile before turning on his heel and walking away.

The clearing had a completely different feel this time around. There were people scattered around chatting away while working on various chores. Amy and Andrea were off to the side hanging wet clothes across a wire line. Daryl was sitting by the fire fixing something on his crossbow. Even Lori and Carl where in the clearing and it looked like she had her son working on some sort of math worksheet. Poor kid. The world ended and he's still stuck with multiplication problems.

"Would you like me to take that?"

I glanced over to see the woman I had met earlier, Carol, smiling happily at me. She must have noticed my confusion because she motioned toward the dirty clothes I had balled up and was now holding to my chest.

"Oh, you don't have to." I shook my head quickly.

"It's no bother. I'll put it with the other dirty clothes." Carol reached forward and I handed the wad of clothing to her. She offered me one last smile before walking over to where there were three baskets on the ground. She set the dirty clothes in one before moving to a board where she was ironing a shirt. A shirt that looked suspiciously like Rick's police uniform.

I bit my lip awkwardly before going over to sit by the fire. It felt strange to be here, like I didn't honestly belong. I had no connections here, not really, and there was already some sort of routine in place that I wasn't aware of. I was a stranger and an outsider right now.

I opened the bottle in my hand and dry swallowed two pills before sticking the bottle in my bag. I'd return it to Dale later. My eyes darted over to Daryl, who sat only two seats away, working on his crossbow without even looking up in my general direction. I tore my gaze away from him to try and find something to do. Glenn and Dale were not around right now so I couldn't open a conversation with them. Amy and Andrea weren't far away, but they were busy and it looked like they were having a private conversation themselves. Rick was over by the jeep parked by the RV looking at its engine, but Shane stood next to him harshly whispering. They were arguing.

I turned back to Daryl and sighed, "Hey." His shoulders stiffened slightly, but he didn't reply. "Thanks for bringing me here. I appreciate it." Daryl let out a grunt in response. It was quiet between us for another minute before I spoke again, "I'm sorry about your brother."

Daryl's eyes snapped up to meet mine and the same hurt I saw earlier was there again, but it was harder now. He shook his head, "Don't need your pity."

"It's not pity." I replied with ease. "I really am sorry."

Daryl didn't move. He just held his gaze on me, contemplating. It reminded me of what Shane had been doing to me, minutes prior, but there was a huge difference between the two. Shane had been looking for danger. He had been sizing me up. Daryl's gaze didn't look skeptical though. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Oh, come on." Shane barked. Daryl continued to hold my gaze, but I was too curious to continue this staring contest. I glanced over to see Rick walking toward Carol while Shane remained fuming by the jeep. He said something, it sounded a lot like 'thank you', then took the shirt she had been ironing and pulled it on. Rick began to slowly button the shirt up while walking toward the RV. Shane followed him as he passed, "I don't know that, Rick. I don't know that, man, so could you just- could you just throw me a bone here?" Rick turned to face his friend. He didn't look annoyed or discouraged. He wore the look of a man who had made a decision. Rick looked determined. I couldn't see Shane's face anymore, he was now facing Rick, but his voice sounded annoyed as hell. "Why would you go out and risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon?"

"Hey!" Daryl barked and shot up from his seat. "Choose your words more carefully."

Shane turned to Daryl briefly with a bitter sneer, "No, I did. Douchebag's what I meant." He turned back around to Rick, " _Merle Dixon_." The name was spat from his mouth in distaste. "The guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."

Rick shrugged his shoulders, seemingly unaffected by Shane's brash words and attitude, "What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me. I can't let a man die of thirst – _me_." A slow smile crept along my face as my doubts were dashed. Rick was a good man. "He'd die of thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being."

I barely knew Rick Grimes, but his words made me beam with pride. Shane turned so he faced his left. Half his face could be seen now and I watched as he clenched his jaw in frustration. There was no way he could argue against Rick's point without sounding like a douchebag himself.

"So that's your big plan?" The same female voice surprised me again. I had forgotten Lori was even there until she stood up from beside her son with crossed arms to speak. She scoffed, "You and Daryl go wandering the streets of Atlanta?"

Rick slowly turned around to look behind him and it was only then that I noticed Glenn had finally entered the clearing. He was standing a few feet back leaning against the red car that had been taken apart. I didn't know how Rick was looking at Glenn, but the easy-going man frowned in response and sighed, "Oh, come on."

"You know the way." Rick replied and it suddenly made sense. Rick wanted Glenn to be his tour guide through the city of the dead. "You've been there before, in and out, no problem. You said so yourself." Glenn looked nervous as he pulled his baseball cap off his head and ran a hand though his black hair. "It's not fair of me to ask –I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know Lori would too."

"That's just great." Shane scoffed, "Now you're gonna risk three men."

I wanted to go. The idea hit me like a truck and I couldn't shake the thoughts from my head. I wanted to go to Atlanta with this small rescue group. There could be clues somewhere in that city that led to who I am or who my family was. I knew the idea of walking into Atlanta and finding anything was a long shot, but I refused to not even try. Plus, there was another part of me that wanted to leave. There was an urge in the back of my mind that was pushing for me to grab the nearest car and drive far, far away. This group seemed great, the people seemed really nice and welcoming for the most part, but did I have the time to settle here and make roots with people I didn't know? Not to mention, Rick had already found his family. He was my only ally in the ' _find our families'_ plan and he had already succeeded. Rick had a new mission now and that'd be to survive, to keep his family safe. I wasn't sure if there was room for my plan of searching next to his plan of surviving.

"Four." While you had contemplated the pros and cons of volunteering, T-Dog had walked into the clearing with a determined nod.

Daryl scoffed and I glanced at him in time to see him roll his eyes in contempt, "My day just gets better an' better, don't it?"

"You see anyone else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?"

"Why you?" Daryl questioned.

T-Dog shook his head, "You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."

"So that's four." Dale spoke up from the RV's doorway. I hadn't noticed him either until now. Damn. Was I always this oblivious or was it just the distraction of what was happening? I prayed for the latter.

Slowly, I stood up and awkwardly raised my hand with a sheepish grin to go along with it. Rick noticed me before I said a word and shot me a confused look. I shrugged, "Five?"

Everyone in the clearing was looking at me again, but this time I didn't feel so uncomfortable under their gazes. Dale and Glenn both had looks of surprise, but when I glanced over at Shane he seemed weary of me. Did he think I was already planning my mode of attack? I wanted to glance over at Daryl, to see his reaction, but Rick held my stare. He shook his head, "No. You're still injured. You need to stay here and rest."

"I'm fine." I argued, "I don't need my shoulder to run from walkers, my foot actually isn't all that bad…" He didn't seem convinced of my words. I motioned toward Daryl beside me, "I can defend myself too! Ask, Daryl. I can, kind of, sort of, throw knives. _Ish_."

I was close enough to hear Daryl snort, but I couldn't tell if it was in annoyance or amusement. Rick shook his head again, "It's too dangerous." He turned back to face Shane, "There's four of us."

This wasn't working in my favor. I hadn't been expecting Rick to play the role of protector of my own well-being. I panicked briefly before glancing over at Daryl. A new tactic formed in my mind. I smirked and spoke up, "Daryl wants me to go."

"The hell would I want that?" Daryl scoffed loudly. He seemed insulted that I'd even say he considered the idea. "I got 'nough of you in the woods."

"Because I'm a _doctor_." I said firmly with as much confidence as I could muster. Sure, I didn't really identify with the job title or the responsibilities that came with it, but damn was I not above using it in my own advantage.

"You're a doctor?" Daryl questioned. He apparently hadn't heard my strange backstory.

"Your brother has been up there since yesterday afternoon. It's hot as hell, he's got no shade, no water… He has to be super dehydrated. Not to mention, the handcuff around his wrist. I bet he's been pulling and yanking on it, tearing up the skin around it. He probably needs stitches if it's bad enough." I crossed my arms in a nonchalant manner, "I mean, sure you guys could probably take care of that yourself, but wouldn't you want a trained medical professional there if you could have one?"

Daryl seemed to consider this. I glanced over at Rick to see he was shooting a me a light glare. Daryl spoke up, catching my attention, "The Doc's coming with. What'd you say your name was? Victoria?"

"Call me Tori." I replied with a smirk.

Rick sighed in irritation, "Fine. Five."

"It's not just five, Rick." Shane argued, "Don't you get it? You're putting every single one of us at risk. Come on, you saw that walker! It was here, it was in camp! We need every able body here. We need them to protect camp!"

The irritation was gone as Rick's lips twitched up slightly in a small smirk. Much like I had used my plan to get my way, something told me Rick had a plan B too. He nodded, "Seems to me like what you really need is more guns."

My eyes widened in surprise as I thought back to that large bag of guns. Had he lost it in the city? Glenn chuckled from the side, his hands hanging from his back pockets, "Right. The guns."

"Wait, what guns?" Shane questioned with renewed interest.

"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns." Rick replied, "I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left." He shrugged his shoulders, "I dropped the bag in Atlanta when Victoria and I got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up."

The gears were turning in Shane's head, even I could see that, "Ammo?"

"700 rounds. Assorted."

Shane took a step back, his hands on his hips, as he actually began to finally consider the plan. It was a lot of guns, no doubt. Even I hadn't thought there were that many in the bag he carried. It must have been heavy as hell.

Lori's voice cut through the air, "You went through hell to find us. You even risked your life for a girl you found on the street." I frowned at her words and tried not to react. It hadn't been that big of risk, first of all, and secondly, why was she so pissed that he had saved me? The more I learned about Rick, the more I found out that he was one of those guys. He was one of those good to their core human beings that went out of their way to help others. Shouldn't she be used to that? Shouldn't at least some part of her commend her husband's bravery rather than argue with him in front of an audience? "You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?"

"Dad." Carl spoke up softly. This entire conversation probably should've happened without the little boy around. He didn't need to hear this. "I don't want you to go."

Rick sucked in a sharp breath, and I knew by the look on his face that the only person who'd be able to convince him to stay was that little boy. Rick looked torn and conflicted as he stared at his son.

"To hell with the guns!" Lori cried, "Shane is right. Merle Dixon", Much like Shane, she emphasized his name with as much distaste as she could, "He's not worth one of your lives, even with the guns thrown in."

Rick began to cross the space to meet his wife, but I decided to look over at Daryl instead. His jaw was clenched and he stared ahead at a spot on the RV. His mind was obviously somewhere else right now. I reached over and gave his forearm a slight squeeze before pulling away again. Daryl looked shocked at the contact as his head snapped down to look over at me, but I didn't react to his questioning glare. I was sorry his brother was out, trapped, in Atlanta, but I was more sorry that he had to stand here and hear everyone belittle this Merle guy with insults like this. Even if Merle was the jackass everyone seemed to claim he was, he was still a brother to Daryl Dixon.

"Tell me." Lori pleaded and I tore my eyes away from Daryl, back to the scene at hand. I could still feel his eyes on me though. "Make me understand."

Rick stood in front of her, "I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy." Lori grew angrier for a second, but Rick didn't pause long enough for her to speak, "Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. It's because of them I made it back to you and Carl at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta." He shook his head, "They'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn him."

"What's stopping you?" Lori spat.

"The walkie-talkie. It's in the bag I dropped." Rick pressed his lips together, "He's got the other one. The plan was to connect when they got closer."

"These our walkies?" Shane questioned while trailing his hand down the stubble on his chin in thought.

Rick nodded, "Yeah, they are."

"So use the CB." Andrea spoke up from the side. She motioned toward a black, radio box off to the side. Her hair had fallen free from the bun and now hung around the base of her neck, "What's wrong with that?"

Shane rolled his shoulders, "The CB's fine. It's the walkies that suck to crap. Date back to the 70's, don't match any other bandwidth –not even the scanners in our cars."

I looked back over at Rick and Lori to see they hadn't broken eye contact yet. Rick sighed, "I need that bag."

Lori didn't respond with words. There was disagreement still written all over her face, but she shrugged her shoulders and took a step away. Rick sighed again, but knelt down in front of Carl. The two had a quiet conversation; one where I couldn't catch what they said and I didn't want to intrude anyways. It ended with Rick running a hand through Carl's hair lovingly.

This had been the universal signal that the argument was over and people began to disperse and go back to what they had been doing before. It was decided, I was going on the rescue mission, but right now I had no idea what I should be doing. Rick was over by the front of the RV talking to Dale and a tall man, which Glenn had introduced as Jim, about something. The way he kept motioning toward the red toolbox on the ground made me think it had to do with getting a tool to cut through the chain and padlock keeping the walkers away from Merle.

"You can leave your stuff here." Amy bounced up to stand beside me, "I'll put it in my tent so no one grabs it."

Andrea walked up behind her sister and I offered them both a smile, "Thanks, but I kinda wanna keep it with me."

Amy nodded and accepted my words without a doubt, but Andrea gave me a curious look. If all went according to plan then I wouldn't exactly be coming back. Up ahead, Glenn was waving me toward him. I said a quick good-bye to both sisters before jogging over to where Glenn was. With the bandage and thick sock, my foot only ached a little at the quick movement. That was a good sign. Rick was probably right when he said I needed rest, but I wasn't about to admit that now.

"I'm gonna back the moving truck in so we can take that." Glenn explained and shook the keys in his hands.

"Alright." I nodded and understood that he was asking if I wanted to come with him to do so without actually saying anything. This was much better than standing around clueless, plus Glenn seemed like a cool guy. He was easy to talk to. "So hey, how'd you and Rick meet? I mean, I know you saved him but…"

Glenn nodded as we walked out of the clearing. Parked to the side under a group of branches was a medium sized moving truck, "I was up on the roof keeping a look out when I spotted him." He unlocked the doors and opened the passenger side, I gave him a smile and jumped in before he shut it. When Glenn came to the other side and jumped in he continued to speak, "I'm kind of the supply run guy around here. I go into the city all the time for stuff, almost always alone. It worked well, but yesterday we decided to take a big group down."

"Why?"

He shrugged and began to move the truck, "Something about being able to carry more supplies? I don't know, I voted against it." Glenn paused, "Anyways, things went to shit when some dumbass stirred up the walkers on the street and started shooting off rounds."

I couldn't help but chuckle, "I'm guessing that dumbass was Rick?"

"Hey, you were there too from what I hear." Glenn joked.

I nodded and laughed again, "I'll take that title. I deserve it."

Glenn chuckled, "Back to where I started, when I was on the roof I spotted him running from the geeks. He slid under this giant tank and I thought he was a goner, but then I never heard his screams." I tried not to picture Rick being eaten alive under a military tank. "I got through to him on the radio and talked him out to safety."

Once the truck was where Glenn wanted it to be he put it into park. The back door slid up and Daryl jumped into the back with his crossbow slung over his shoulder. Behind him, Rick and Shane were talking over a large bag with the words 'Sheriff Deputy' across the side. They didn't look like they were arguing this time.

"Come on!" Daryl shouted and marched to the front where we were sitting. He reached his leg through the small window making Glenn and I lean back to avoid his foot. He stomped on the car horn with ease, "Let's go!"

"So", I tried to get back to the conversation we were having, "You, Rick, and whoever else was there just walked out of Atlanta?"

"Kind of?" Glenn grimaced, "Rick and I walked through the street covered in geek guts and we stole this van."

My eyes were wide and my surprise kept me from looking over when the passenger side door opened, "Did you just say guts?"

"Yeah, he did." Rick chuckled from behind me. I turned in my seat to see Rick with a smile, "It was about as fun as it sounds."

I blinked and glanced over my shoulder to see T-Dog hop into the back and sit down, "Oh, I should get back there, huh?" Rick probably needed to sit up front with Glenn. Rather than moving back so I could hop out, he stepped up onto the truck's foot ledge and motioned with his hand for me to scoot in.

"Nah, it's fine. Scoot over."

With my bag kept between my feet, I slid across the seat so I was in between Glenn and Rick. It was a small space, my shoulders were pressed lightly against theirs, but it wasn't an uncomfortable fit. The sliding door shut with a slam from behind me and Glenn threw the truck in to drive.

We were only five minutes into the drive when Rick turned his head toward me and asked with a low voice, "So what's the real reason you're coming?"

Rick was quiet enough that T-Dog and Daryl probably couldn't hear unless they were really trying, but Glenn could hear every word crystal clear. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him glance at me as well.

"Are you questioning my charitable actions of helping nurse a stranger back to health?" I retaliated. Rick didn't lower his gaze and his left eyebrow rose questioningly. I heaved a sigh, "Well, I mostly want to see if maybe I can find any clue of who I am there. It's a long shot, I know that, but I could never forgive myself if I didn't even try. It's stupid, but who knows? Maybe someone left me a sign. Maybe I'll take a good look around and remember something."

Rick nodded, "I get it. I don't think it's stupid either, but mostly? What else is there for you to accomplish?"

I stared at him for a moment. There was curiosity in his light blue eyes and an honest to goodness desire to know what I had planned. Out of all the people who could've run across me lying unconscious in the road, I felt honored that it had been Rick Grimes. Out of respect though, I had to go. His plan of settle and survive didn't mesh with my plan to explore and find answers. I couldn't risk him or his newly found family with my desires. I glanced over my shoulder and caught Glenn's gaze. His eyes widened briefly before shooting back to the road in embarrassment.

"It's fine, Glenn." I breathed and I hoped that was enough for him to know I didn't mind him listening. It's not like we were trying to be secret. Glenn's shoulders relaxed and I looked back to Rick whose expression hadn't changed. I sighed, "I'm planning to leave, Rick." Rick's eyes widened in shock and I heard Glenn let out a startled 'what?'. "I came to find a car that I can use to drive out with."

Rick shook his head, "What? Why? Why would you leave?"

"You found your family." I replied firmly, but I put on a smile to lessen the blow, "Now, I have to find mine. Whoever they might be." I paused, "I can't do that here as a part of this group. I can't find out anything about myself here."

Glancing over at Glenn, I could see in his eyes that he didn't agree. He kept his gaze on the road and chose not to argue with me on this. It made sense. I liked the guy, but we barely knew each other. It wasn't like he had any say in what I did or didn't do. Looking back over to Rick, I could see that he did not feel the same way.

"Your memories could come back to you. They did with the medical stuff and Marie." Rick said, "It's safer here with a group. You can heal, let your memories come back, and then from there we'll know where to go to find your loved ones." Rick was still using ' _we'_ instead of ' _you'_ and that warmed my heart more than I thought it would. It also confused me a bit. Why did he care so much? Rick pressed his lips together briefly, "Please stay. Don't leave. It's a bad idea."

"Why do you care so much?" I blurted in curiosity. The words could've been taken in annoyance so I shook my head to clarify, "I'm not asking to sound rude or ungrateful, I just…I'm genuinely curious."

Rick leaned back against his seat with his eyes ahead on the road. He slowly shrugged before glancing back with a small smile, "I made you a promise about this. Not directly, but…" He shook his head, "When I took you under my wing on that side road, that made you my responsibility. I told you to trust me, and that I'd help you. I'm just trying to follow through. You don't have to do any of this alone, Victoria."

"Thanks." I mumbled as I let his words echo through my mind.

It was quiet for a beat before Glenn cleared his throat, "I've, uh, known you less time than Rick, but I totally agree." I chuckled and looked at him. He offered me a comforting smile, "Safety in numbers?"

"Yeah, unless you're going on a supply run to Atlanta, right?" I joked and Glenn chuckled. His slight laugh eased the tension floating in the air. To be honest, I wasn't entirely convinced. Rick said my memories would probably come back, but there was this nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me that wasn't true. Amnesia typically came from head injuries, concussions specifically. The fact that my head wasn't still throbbing, I had no dizziness, no lack of coordination, no confusion, or ringing of the ears led me to believe that maybe I didn't have a concussion. If that were the case, then why did I have such intense memory loss?

Regardless of why, what I knew without a doubt was that I didn't want to be alone. I was scared to be alone. Maybe going off on my own would increase my chances of finding answers, but the concept of leaving and having no one to watch my back was terrifying.

A little less than ten minutes later, Glenn was parking the truck next to a line of railroad tracks in a shaded area under a couple overpasses. There was a metal fence far to the left and the edge of the city sat on the right.

"I…I was here." I said slowly.

"You were?" Rick questioned. Daryl and T-Dog were getting out of the back of the truck, as the three of us exited the front. I began to climb out of Rick's side, taking his offered hand as I hopped to the ground with more weight on my left rather than my right foot.

"That's the fence I climbed to escape." I pointed over to a portion of the fence. The spot I had climbed over had a brick ledge that I used as leverage to push myself over quickly. "I almost didn't even remember, that entire moment just passed like a blur."

Glenn nodded and motioned past the fence to the forest line a few yards beyond it, "If you cut through that area and hiked up and to the right for a couple miles, you'll find camp. It's a shorter distance than driving, but it takes way longer since you're on foot."

"We goin' or are we just gonna stand 'round and talk all damn day?"

"Sorry, Daryl's right." I apologized, "We should start, huh?"

Daryl scoffed, "He better be ok. It's my only word on the matter."

T-Dog waved off his words with his left hand while holding a large pair of bolt cutters in his right, "I told you the geeks can't get at him. Only thing that's gonna get through that door is us." He let out an amused scoff, "If we forget Dale's tools this time too though, he's gonna be what we need to worry about."

The group slowly began to move past the tracks and toward the city. Rick glanced back at Glenn, "Merle first or guns?"

"Merle!" Daryl yelled, "We ain't even havin' this conversation!"

"We are." Rick replied firmly with a hard look in his direction before looking back to Glenn, "You know the geography, it's your call."

The group reached an abandoned, fenced off portion of road, but the fence had a hole near the bottom that was folded down. Rick lifted the fence and motioned for me to crouch down and walk though. I quickly went under with Glenn on my heels. He nodded once, "Merle's closest. Getting the guns first would mean doubling back. Merle first."

Glenn's answer pleased everyone so the five of us quickly and quietly began to walk down the city's road while keeping an eye out for any lurking monsters. Admittedly, my own attention drifted toward looking for anything out of the ordinary. I kept telling myself that I wasn't going to find anything. Even if someone I knew, someone I loved, had been in Atlanta, the city was huge and the chances of me even being in the right area were slim. Still, I held out for hope and my eyes traced the buildings looking for some kind of sign.

Glenn was in the lead, his shoulders were tense with concentration as he glanced from left to right occasionally. Only a few steps behind him was Rick who had made it very clear that he wanted me only a step away from him at all times. Even T-Dog and Daryl had taken up the flank in a way that had one of them on either side of me. It was as if they had made a weird triangle around me. It was kind of flattering, but also completely unnecessary. I bit back a complaint or wise-ass comment on treating me like I was made of glass. In the end it really didn't even matter. If trouble did decided to show its ugly, rotting face, I sure as hell wasn't going to let any of these guys risk their life for me. It wasn't right. They didn't owe me that. In fact, I owed half of them.

Using the clear back alleys, Glenn led us into a tall building. The floor we entered on looked like a department store. Up ahead were large, glass counters where jewelry used to be sold and near the back, around us, were clothing racks. I walked past an eerie mannequin that had the bottom half of its faceless broken off and tried not to grimace. Mannequins were honestly the least of my worries right now.

As if on mental cue, a low moan echoed through the air making my skin crawl. Rick held his hand out in front of me, stopping me in my tracks, then motioned forward with his other hand. He started walking again and the rest of us followed him in a line. Rick seemed to know where he was going in here, but that wasn't surprising since this was apparently the building they had been occupying while I fled through the woods yesterday.

Rick was leading all of us toward the wall on the far right, but the sound of shuffling steps growing louder made me slow to a stop. To the left of me, there was movement among the clothing racks. The top half of a human head could barely be seen over one of the taller dress racks. It slowly stumbled out and around the rack. At first it seemed like nothing was wrong. The woman, wearing jeans and a dirty yellow shirt, had long black hair that fell past her shoulders. It was greasy and could use a good wash, but who didn't need a good wash these days? She had a pretty profile. Her nose was straight, her cheekbones were high, and maybe she was a bit pale, but her skin was clear.

Her head rolled to the side as she began to turn and everything changed. The right side of her face was a bloody mess. Her eye and most of the muscle under it had been torn from her face leaving a jagged hole where both once were. The skin around her ear and temple was peeled back and folded down like a disfigured flap. All the tissue on her right cheek was gone and I could see her bare teeth and tongue, even with her mouth still closed. The woman was monstrous. She wasn't a woman. Not anymore.

"Damn, you are one ugly skank." Daryl spoke up from right behind my shoulder. The walker let out a hiss and it's stumbling steps increased in my direction. Before it could get even a yard closer though, an arrow dug into its remaining eye and it fell back motionless. Daryl walked by me, probably to retrieve his arrow, but I looked away from the scene.

"Hey." I glanced up from the floor to catch Rick's gaze. He stood right in front of me, "You alright?" Quickly, I nodded and gave him a quick smile. I was fine. I needed to be fine. This was life now. Either I got used to it or I'd get eaten alive. Literally. He returned the small smile, "Stay close. I mean it."

The five of us continued on, and this time I really did stay right by Rick's side. It took no time at all to reach the stairs, and only a couple minutes to climb all the way to the roof. We came to the door T-Dog had chained up and he immediately got to work in cutting the chains. The moment the chains were loose, Daryl rushed forward and kicked the door open, "Merle!? Merle!"

I rushed out after him with my bag swung around so I could dig through it. Even though I had used Daryl and his brother as an excuse to get here, I wholeheartedly planned to still help out. I owed Daryl that much at least. My eyes darted down for a second to look for the first aid kit and it was in that moment that Daryl let out the most God-awful cry of disbelief.

"No, no. _No_!"

My eyes shot up to see Daryl fall to his knees yelling in anguish. In front of him was a pipe with a single, bloody handcuff hanging from it. Beneath that was a white hand lying in a large pile of dark blood. My hand unconsciously shot up to cover my mouth in disbelief. Daryl was still yelling and his pained voice was like a punch to the gut. Hearing that much agony come from one person was painful to watch. I glanced over to the other men only to find they were in the same mindset as me. Rick wore a look of absolute regret as the guilty looking T-Dog lowered his head. Even Glenn looked discouraged and shocked.

In the end, T-Dog had been right every time he said it. Not a single damn geek could get to Merle, but that chain and padlock didn't stop Merle from getting to himself.

* * *

It was a ghost town. Main Street was a broken, war zone. Buildings were gutted out with scars of gunshots and fire. Cars were overturned, some left smashed into various landmarks, and some just left abandoned to the side by their previous owners. Trash littered the street alongside glass, blood, and the occasional dead body.

The dead bodies littering the ground barely even registered on his radar though. As much as the loss of life bothered him, there was something else he needed to focus his concern on. The truth was, this really wasn't a ghost town. He had spent a good portion of his life dealing and ridding the world of all sorts of ghosts. Ghosts ranked very, _very_ low on the list of things that worried him. This quiet town was filled with something much worse than a simple ghost. This town was infested with the dead that didn't really die.

"You see any sign of her yet?"

At the sound of his younger brother's voice, Dean Winchester slowly turned around from the large window he was looking out of. Sam wasn't actually looking at him. His brother was too busy filling a bag with supplies they had gathered from the kitchen of this abandoned police station.

"No. I don't." Dean answered bluntly. He was worried. He was beyond worried and that made him frustrated as hell. "Sam-"

"Dean." Sam interrupted him and Dean narrowed his eyes at him in response. "She's _fine_."

Dean let out a scoff, "I'm glad you're so sure. She was supposed to meet us here. We picked this random town as our fallback spot, Sammy. Where the hell is she?"

"She's been through worse than this, she's dealt with monsters way more dangerous than anything lurking out there." Sam said in a logical, reassuring manner.

"All it takes is one mistake. You know that." Dean argued. He shook his head and bit back the guilt that tried to rear its ugly head again, "We shouldn't have let her go to Texas alone."

Sam sighed, "It was her friend's funeral. She wanted to be alone."

"But we should've known better." Dean walked away from the window entirely and over to a bulletin board hammered into the wall. An assortment of papers covered the board of all varieties, but Dean's gaze was focused on the ' _Wanted'_ posters that decorated the top right corner. A familiar face stared out at him with a blank look on her features. This was not his favorite mug shot. Dean liked the one where she had her hair down and a cheeky smirk on her face. This one looked too serious, too defeated. This wasn't a good picture of the woman he knew.

"This is our fault isn't it?"

Dean whipped around to see his tall brother leaning against the edge of a desk, staring out the front window. He had seen Sam broken before, but the look on his brother's face now was painful to see. There was so much guilt there, so much regret, and as much as Dean wanted to take all those thoughts away from his brother, he knew someone had to take that blame.

"Hell, no." Dean replied firmly. "You know it wasn't. We tried everything we could to stop this."

"Apparently that wasn't enough." Sam sighed, "The world is…dead. Even if we do figure out a way to reverse…whatever this is, it doesn't change the fact that over half the world's population is gone."

Dean shook his head, "It's not our fault. We tried to get that tablet back." There was a pause before he walked over and grabbed the bag of food, "We should go. Like you just said, the world's not gonna magically go back to how things were no matter what we do so _she_ is our number one priority."

Sam nodded in agreement, "Yeah, alright. We know what road she'd be driving on. As long as she didn't change her course, she'd have passed through Atlanta on the way here."

"Then we go to Atlanta." Dean smirked. He hoped the uplifting tone in his voice would convince Sam that everything he said was true. Sam was too smart, he knew Dean too well, to really go for that anymore, but Dean could still pretend. "It's too bad the gun cage was all cleared out."

Sam chuckled, "We literally have an arsenal in our trunk."

"You can never have too many weapons, Sammy."

The two of them headed toward the back where the car was parked. Dean glanced over at the hanging wanted posters one more time before following his brother out. Dean had spent a good majority of his life lying about things. Sometimes it was for the greater good, and sometimes it wasn't. One thing he hadn't gotten good at though, was lying to himself. It didn't matter how many times he claimed that all of this wasn't his fault. Dean knew the truth. He should've done more. He should've been faster, stronger, smarter. Dean should've stopped the apocalypse, but this time he failed and the world suffered. This was, without a doubt in his mind, his own fault.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Howdy, hey. I still don't own the walking dead or supernatural. Now I'm posting this on Saturday, but usually my updates are going to be every Sunday. I'm just gonna be busy tomorrow so I figured I'd post it tonight rather than accidentally forgetting about it. Thanks! Enjoy and leave me reviews, kay?_

* * *

Chapter Three:

Too Little, Too Late

* * *

 _"_ _There's nothing worse than too late." –Charles Bukowski_

* * *

Merle's blood was splattered against the pipe and ground in a mess of dull red. I slowly pulled my bag back on. It's not like I needed the first aid kit anymore. There wasn't much I could do with a severed hand. As messy as the area looked, from the blood splatter, I couldn't help but think that it should've looked a hell of a lot worse. Merle _sawed off_ his own damn hand. Not only should there be a hell of a lot more blood, but he should also be lying here blacked out. The only answer I could come up with was the usage of a tourniquet and a shit ton of luck. Another thing that caught my attention, something good that worked in all our favor, was the fact that the blood wasn't entirely dry. There were damp splotches and smears and that meant he was still in the vicinity.

"Daryl", I began, but the statement died in my mouth. Daryl looked livid. Anger seemed to seep off him in waves. He suddenly whipped around with a growl, bringing his crossbow up in T-Dog's direction. The moment the crossbow leveled at T-Dog, Rick stood on the opposite side of Daryl with his handgun pressed against the man's temple. I hadn't seen Daryl's reaction coming, but apparently Rick had.

"I won't hesitate." Rick spoke calmly, his eyes narrowed in determination. Daryl's arm shook while holding the bow, either out of heartbreak or anger, but Rick's outstretched arm and gun didn't quiver once. "I don't care if _every_ walker in the city hears it."

A hand was slowly trying to pull me back a step. Glenn was trying to keep me out of the way if some sort of fight did occur, but I knew there wasn't going to be one. He must not have seen the look on Daryl's face, the one I could see clear as day. There had been anger, and frustration, and grief on his face earlier, but now all that remained was the latter. His lips quivered slightly, his face scrunched up as he blinked back tears, and finally his features crumpled as he let the crossbow fall from its ready position.

Rick hesitated a moment before uncocking his gun and placing it back into its holster. Glenn let out a sigh of relief. I glanced over my shoulder to give him a quick smile.

Daryl took a moment to collect himself, but continued staring T-Dog down for a moment. When he spoke, his words were steady and soft despite his earlier outburst, "You got a do-rag or somethin'?"

T-Dog matched his gaze, a look of regret still lingering there, before shoving his hand into his side pocket and bringing out a dark blue bandana. He offered it without hesitation and Daryl took it without another word. Everyone watched as Daryl turned and walked back towards the hand. He leaned his crossbow against the pipe then with a shaky sigh he knelt down and spread the bandana against the blood stained ground right next to the severed appendage.

I stepped closer, alongside Glenn, so I was now standing right next to T-Dog and Rick. Daryl carefully picked up the hand by the pinky, "I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs." He slowly twisted the hand some, keeping his gaze on it. His next words were said under his breath, "Ain't that a bitch."

Daryl placed the hand on the bandana and folded it up nicely before rising and placing the wrapped up hand into the book bag that Glenn wore despite the look of disgust on his face. Glenn's features morphed into defeat as he just stood there and allowed Daryl to pack it away. As Daryl walked back over to his crossbow, Glenn glanced at me with a grimace and I only offered him another smile in return. Better him than me in this case.

"He must have used a tourniquet –maybe his belt."

It was Daryl who had made that outward note of the situation and I quickly nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I noticed the same thing. There'd be a hell of a lot more blood if Merle didn't." Daryl shot his gaze toward me, but this look wasn't a glare. His features were still soft right now. Daryl was still in a lot of pain. I stepped past him and studied the blood, "It's also still damp in some spots. This couldn't have happened that long ago."

Without waiting to hear anyone else's opinion on the matter, I began to curiously follow the drops of blood across the roof. The trail of blood led to an already open door on the other side of the rooftop. There was a dried smear of blood against the doorframe as well. I went to take a step in when a hand grabbed at the top of my book bag and yanked me back. A startled cry slipped from my lips as I watched Daryl pass me by with a shake of his head. He raised his crossbow and walked into the small office with cautious steps.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Rick and Glenn only a step behind. T-Dog was still on the other side of the roof and if I had to guess I'd say it had something to do with Dale's bag of tools. Rick gave me a small smile and a light clap on the shoulder before following after Daryl. Glenn motioned for me to enter first so I hurried through the door. The tiny office had only a desk and a dark blue locker and it led into a small, open stairway.

"Merle? You in here?" Daryl called out rather loudly. When no one offered a response to his question, he began to head down the stairway. Rick went after, his gun drawn, and I kept close to Rick hesitating only to reach down and pull out my knife. The sound of an extra pair of footsteps made me realize T-Dog had joined us.

The base of the stairs was only a couple flights down, we were still on a higher-level floor, and it opened up into an area with more offices and a waiting area. Daryl and Rick peeled off to the right, checking the nearby offices and it was by pure coincidence that I looked to the left. A walker turned the corner leaving the waiting area and stepping into the hallway we were in. It was the most human looking walker I had seen so far with no outward injuries and only foggy, white eyes and twitchy movements to show he was dead. He stumbled forward quietly, his feet made no noise and I lifted my arm with the knife in it. All I had to do was exactly what I did before. My hand tightened around the handle and I threw it forward. The moment the knife left my hand I knew it hadn't been the same.

The proof of my mistake was shown when the knife clipped the side of the walker's head, making it stumble, then hit the wall behind the walker before falling to the ground. An arrow immediately pierced the walker's temple sending it to the ground.

"Uh, you kinda missed." T-Dog voiced. The top of my ears burned hot in embarrassment and I was sure I had a matching blush across my cheeks.

"I noticed, thanks." I mumbled. At least I had tried right? Although, if I had been alone the dumbass move of throwing my only fucking weapon away from me would've surely gotten me killed.

Daryl walked out in front of me to yank the arrow out of the walker's head. He moved to the right and grabbed my knife as well before approaching me. Daryl wiped the light blood residue covering the edge of the blade against his pants leg before handing it back to me handle first, "Don't think so hard 'bout it."

His comment took me off guard and I forgot to thank him for bringing me back my knife. I kept my eyes on his back as he walked away and they slowly drifted to Rick who gave me nod, "Nice try, let's keep moving."

Suddenly the embarrassment was back again and I bit back an unhappy grimace. Maybe it'd be easier if I ditched the knife and went with a gun or crossbow? I glanced over at Daryl who was using both arms to pull back the string and reload his bow. His muscles flexed from the tension and I quickly marked ' _crossbow'_ off my list of possibilities.

We continued forward without encountering another shambling geek. The lot of us entered a receptionist area where two dead walkers laid on the ground motionless.

"Had 'nough in him to take out these two sum'bitches. One handed." Daryl nodded toward the bodies as if it wasn't the first thing any of us noticed. "Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother. Feed 'im a hammer, an' he'd crap out nails."

"As impressive as this is, anybody could pass out from blood loss." I gently reminded him, "Regardless of how tough they are."

Blood loss was no joke. Even now I could still feel that I wasn't at 100% and I was sure that was due to the side effect of my various injuries. The good news was, my shirt wasn't bleeding through right now and my sock didn't feel damp with blood, which I'd take as a small win at the moment.

We continued through the receptionist office, following the continuing trail of blood, which led all the way back to a tiled off area that was beginning to look like a kitchen. There were shelves of pots and pans and other various kitchen utensils.

"Merle!" Daryl yelled out again.

Rick closed the space between the two of them and the tone of his voice made it clear to me that he must have had some sort of glare on his features, "We're not alone here. Remember?"

Daryl scoffed nonchalantly and didn't even look in Rick's direction, "Screw that." He continued forward, "He could be bleedin' out. Doc said so herself."

The two of them entered deeper into the room and I followed right behind them. The moment I stepped into the main portion of the room the smell of burning flesh entered my nostrils. It was a familiar smell to me, and I prayed it was because of my medical background rather than some other creepy, unknown reason.

The wall to the right had a line of stoves, and one stove in particular had an open flame still burning. Bright red blood was smeared across the once silver handles of the stove and there was a worn down brown belt resting on top of the stove. Next to it was a flat, cast-iron plate that Rick walked over and picked up by the handle. On the metal was a clump of burnt skin and blood. My nose scrunched up at the smell, but I couldn't help but feel even more impressed. Daryl wasn't kidding when he said his brother was the toughest guy around.

"What's that burned stuff?" Glenn asked from behind me.

"Skin." Rick answered in a rough voice. He tossed the iron aside, "He cauterized the stump."

"He cauterized himself?" Glenn questioned in disbelief. There was more disgust on his face as he tore his eyes away from the stove, "That would be so…so _painful_."

Daryl shot each of us a look, "Told you he was tough. Nobody can kill Merle but Merle."

"Don't take that on faith." Rick replied, shooting him a look of his own, "Victoria's right, he's lost a _lot_ of blood."

"Yeah?" Daryl turned and walked across the room toward the right. In the corner was a row of frosted windows, one of which had been busted open. "Didn't stop him from bustin' out of this death trap."

Everyone walked over to see for themselves. Glenn passed me, his eyes wide in shock and confusion, "He _left_ the building? Why the hell would he do that?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Daryl snapped, walking away from the window, "He's alone out there as far as he knows. Doin' what he's gotta do." He shot Rick a glare before brushing past him, " _Survivin'_."

T-Dog shook his head and gave Daryl a skeptical gaze, "You call _that_ surviving? Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?"

"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks!"

Daryl had bit back his anger, pain, and frustration from the roof very well, but only a fool would've actually believed it was gone. Now, he was lashing out again. There was rage in his eyes. Rage that caused Glenn and T-Dog to look away at his statement. Rick kept his gaze ahead in thought, but Daryl didn't leave him be. He marched toward him with a glare, "You couldn't kill 'im. I ain't worried 'bout some dumb, dead bastard."

Rick didn't so much as flinch at his tone or gaze, "What about a _thousand_ dumb, dead bastards? Different story?"

"Why don't you take a tally? Do what you want. I'm gonna go get 'im."

Daryl tried to get past Rick, to go through the window same as Merle did, but Rick lifted his hand and pushed him back, "Daryl, wait."

"Get your hands off me!" Daryl barked and I couldn't help but glance around nervously. Glenn hissed in annoyance as well. If the two of them kept up their loud argument then who knew what kind of trouble would fall down on us. "You can't stop me!"

"I don't blame you." Rick hissed, "He's family, I get that. I went through hell to find mine." A pang of guilt hit me out of nowhere. What if I was supposed to be doing something for my own family? Was someone out there waiting for me to find them? "I know exactly how you feel, but he couldn't have gotten far with that injury. We can help you check a few blocks around here, but only if we keep a level head."

There was a pause of silence before Daryl nodded in agreement, "I can do that."

Rick looked over at the three of us who had stood back during this last argument. His gaze seemed to be questioning whether or not we agreed with his earlier statement. Glenn nodded briefly with his hand resting on the back of his neck. I offered Rick and Daryl a smile, "I came all the way out here to show off my doctor skills. Can't do that until we find my missing patient, right?"

T-Dog sighed, "Fine. Fine…but, only if we get those guns first." He shook his head, "I'm not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, ok?"

Rick nodded and I didn't bother arguing against the guns. It wasn't that I thought we didn't need them, it was more along the lines of I knew they couldn't be that much help. In a city like Atlanta, if the situation got bad enough that we were resorting to guns the chances were we were all goners. Still, unlike Merle, we knew where the guns were so at least by deciding to go grab the bag we had something concrete to rely on.

We left the kitchen area to head to another small pack of offices. The one we settled on was a large room with tile floors and at least four different desks scattered around. The door to the side led straight out to a fire escape that emptied out into a side alley.

"We need a plan." Rick stated. T-Dog took a seat on the floor with his back leaning against one of the desks. I went to the desk across from him and sat on top of the smooth surface with my back to the side door.

"I think I have an idea." Glenn replied as he came to kneel down on the tile floor between T-Dog and I. Daryl grabbed a seat on the desk that was next to the one I sat on while Rick leaned against the edge of desk I was on.

We all watched and listened as Glenn dug a marker out of his book bag and began to draw lines on the floor. It didn't take long to figure out that the lines were the alleys and road of the area around us. Glenn hadn't been kidding when he said he knew these streets well. He briefly explained his plan, which had the main point of him running out to the street alone to grab the bag of guns.

I bit my bottom lip in worry, "Alone? Are you really sure you want to go alone?"

"It's better that I do it alone." Glenn replied. His eyes locked with mine and he gave me a reassuring nod, and his slight smile made me feel like he was saying thanks for the worry. The conversation I had with him earlier in the day was all about how he used to come to Atlanta by himself and nothing ever went wrong until he brought a group. The guy seemed confident in this decision so I chose not to argue for my worries.

Rick didn't agree though, "You're _not_ doing this alone."

"Even I think it's a bad idea an' I don't even like you much." Daryl added with a scoff.

Glenn sighed, "It's a _good_ idea, ok? If you just hear out my reasoning." Rick pushed himself away from the desk and knelt down, physically showing that Glenn had his attention. He took a deep breath and began, "If we go out there in a group, we're slow and drawing attention. If I'm alone then I can move fast. Look." Glenn glanced around the ground and picked up a ball of trash. He continued looking for something else, but the floors were relatively clean. I reached across the desk and grabbed one of those black, jumbo paper clips.

"Hey." I said and tossed it.

He looked up in time to catch it with a quiet thanks. Glenn set the black paperclip in the middle of one of his drawn intersections, "That's the tank, five blocks from where we are now." He set the paper ball an inch or so away, "That's the bag of guns beside it." Glenn used the marker to point to an alleyway, "Here's the alley I dragged you into, Rick, when we first met. That's where Daryl, Tori, and I will go."

"Why me?" Daryl and I voiced at the exact same time. I looked over at him in amusement at the coincidence, but he rolled his eyes at me and gave me no more time of day.

"Your crossbow is quieter than Rick's gun." Glenn pointed to him then looked to me, "And you have your knife which is quieter too. Plus, I honestly like the idea of having a doctor waiting for me just in case." I couldn't help but chuckle at Glenn's words. "Now while Tori and Daryl wait here in the alley, I run up the street and grab the bag of guns."

"You got us elsewhere?" Rick reminded him.

"You and T-Dog, right." Glenn nodded, "You'll be in this alley here."

Rick's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I had to admit that the decision to put them in a different alley confused me as well, "That's two blocks away. Why?"

"I may not be able to come back the same way. Walkers might cut me off. If that happens, I wont go back to Tori and Daryl, I'll go forward instead." Glenn motioned the path he would take, "All the way around to the alley where you guys are." He shrugged nonchalantly, "Whichever direction I go, I got you in both places to cover me. Afterwards, we'll meet back here."

There was silence as everyone let the plan sink in. There was no way Rick or Daryl could argue against a plan like this. Glenn had thought every action through and had even included a back up plan as an option. I was seriously impressed.

"Hey kid", Daryl spoke up, "What'd you do before all this?"

I watched as Glenn's face morphed to one of confusion. He furrowed his eyebrows, "Delivered pizzas. Why?"

With another chuckle, I slid off the desk to get ready for the plan. The others began to move about while I slid my book bag off and set it on one of the desks. We'd come back here eventually and just in case something happened I didn't want to be running around with my book bag slowing me down. I slid my knife back into my boot just as Rick walked up to me. He motioned with his head for me to follow.

Rick took a few steps away from the group before giving me a serious look, "Are you sure you're up for this? Maybe it'd be best if you just stayed here. No one would look down on you, you're injured."

I smiled at his concern, "I'm fine, Rick. Honestly. I really want to help, and I can't do that sitting in this room twiddling my thumbs waiting for you guys to come back."

"I had a feeling you'd be stubborn about this." Rick chuckled and I playfully rolled my eyes. He nodded, "Seriously though, be careful out there. Don't push yourself too hard."

"I'll play it safe." I agreed before lightly patting him on the stomach with the back of my hand then pointing at him, "You be careful too. Take care of yourself and T-Dog."

Rick and T-Dog went down the fire escape since this path was closest to their alley, but the three of us went up to the roof. There was a set of bridges from this roof to the building two down that had a ladder that led straight down to the alley Glenn, Daryl, and I needed to be in. Glenn was familiar with it because this was the same path he took to save Rick.

It took only a minute or two to get to the ladder and another to climb all the way down. I clung to each rung in fear that I'd slip up and fall through the safety bars to my untimely demise. Glenn reached solid ground first, followed by Daryl and then me. The moment we got into the alley, I became aware of the groans and moans drifting through the humid, warm air. At the mouth of this alley were two large garbage bins and a fence that separated the alley from the road. On the other side of the fence was a walker that stumbled out of sight. It was quickly replaced by another in a pattern of disappearing and reappearing dead.

The three of us hustled down the alley with Glenn in the lead and Daryl taking up the rear. We hid between the garbage bins for a brief moment. Daryl pulled the string on his crossbow back, reloading an arrow, and I pulled the knife out of my boot.

"You got some balls for a chinaman." Daryl commented. Had he honestly just said that backhanded compliment aloud?

"I'm _Korean_."

"Whatever."

I rolled my eyes and reached forward to wrap my hand around Glenn's wrist, "Hey, _please_ be careful. Come back safe."

Glenn nodded with a brief smile before shrugging out of his loose button up shirt to hand to me. I took it with a nod then he sprinted out into the road. Quickly, I pulled the short sleeve button up shirt on so I didn't have to hold it or wrap it around my shoulders. Worry filled my mind to the point where I was probably beginning to sweat it out. What if things went wrong? What if Glenn got cut off both ways and didn't have an escape?

"He'll be fine." Daryl commented gruffly from behind me.

"I'm glad you're so confident." I replied without looking back. There was a snide tone in my voice that I didn't mean to express.

Daryl spoke again, "He went on runs for the camp all the time. Never got eaten before."

"Your words truly set my worried heart at ease." I whispered back, not bothering to hide any sarcasm. The sound of footsteps filled the alleyway. They weren't the shuffled, slow steps of a walker though. The steps sounded alive. I turned around just as Daryl whipped around the garbage bin behind us with his crossbow raised.

I stepped to Daryl's side so I could get a clear view of the person who had stumbled across us. It was only a young boy, a teenager at the most. "Whoa, don't shoot me!" He yelled in panic. His head was shaven in a light brown buzz cut and he wore a white wife beater with baggy light jeans. He was also extraordinarily loud, "What do you want?!"

With a backward glance to the deadly walkers, I shushed him as quietly as I could. Daryl took a step forward, "I'm lookin' for my brother, he's hurt real bad. You seen him?"

Rather than answering the question, the boy screamed, " _Ayudame_!"

"Daryl." I said in worry, glancing back again at the walkers that were beginning to grow restless.

"Shut up!" Daryl snapped at him.

" _Ayudame_!"

"Shut up!" Daryl repeated. I grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged lightly on it in fear that any word I said would just add to the already high noise level, "You're gonna bring the geeks down on us. Now, answer me!"

" _Ayudame_!"

Rather than repeating himself, Daryl lunged forward and hit the kid across the face with his crossbow. The boy flew back and hit the side of the building before slumping to ground. The boy began to scream even louder.

"Daryl!" I cried, but he ignored me and knelt down to cover the boy's mouth with his hand while continuing to whisper 'shut up' at him. The boy struggled against Daryl with muffled cries. The fence behind us rattled and I spun around expecting to see walkers barreling down at us. Instead, there were two angry, gruff men. One was empty handed, but the other had a metal baseball bat. Both were Hispanic and both sprinted toward us while yelling something I couldn't quite catch.

The first shoved me aside making me land on my bad shoulder with a cry of pain. I sat up quickly to see them kicking and hitting Daryl across the back with the baseball bat.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" I yelled and rushed forward.

I jumped onto the back of the guy who had the bat and stabbed my knife into the front portion of his shoulder. It was in a place that wouldn't kill him, but boy would it hurt like a bitch. He howled in pain and scrambled back, trying to shake me off of him. Hands grabbed me around my own shoulders and yanked me off his back, throwing me to the ground. I hit the ground hard, rolling toward the front of the alley way and the force of the impact made me lose my knife. I had no idea if it was on the ground or still in the guy's shoulder.

"What-?!" I glanced back to see Glenn come to a screeching halt at the mouth of the alleyway. He had the bag of guns in one hand and a very familiar hat in his other.

"That's it! That's the bag, vato!" One of the men barked.

Glenn grabbed me by the arm and began to drag me out of the alleyway. I tugged him back slightly, "We can't leave Daryl!"

There was no argument to be had though because the man I had stabbed leaped forward and tackled us both to the ground. My chin hit the concrete hard making my teeth snap together painfully. I could taste blood in my mouth as I tried to regain my bearings.

"Tori!" Glenn yelled and I could feel his hand wrap around mine.

An arrow was fired, I recognized the sound of the crossbow's string snapping, and the man I didn't stab let out a loud cry of pain. I was pulled up by Glenn and I looked over the alley just in time to see Daryl on his knees, the boy behind him, while he tried to quickly reload his crossbow.

The screeching of tires filled the air behind me and suddenly Glenn's hand was ripped away from mine. I tried to turn and find him, but the silver bat jammed against my throat as I was pressed against someone's chest and lifted up to be used as a human shield. I struggled against them, but they just tightened their hold on the bat making it harder to breathe.

"Daryl!" I screamed in panic as I realized I was being dragged back to whatever car had pulled up seconds before. I was roughly thrown into the interior of a car and the left side of my head landed on what felt like someone's knee. The car door slammed shut and the car sped forward as something on the outside began to hit the exterior of the car.

"Tori." Glenn spoke in worry. I was being pulled up into a seat, but it was hard to focus on anything. My vision had blurred at the impact. Before my eyesight could fully correct itself a different set of hands were roughly grabbing at me. With a cry, I began to throw my arms and legs out to get away. My foot connected with something and the satisfying crunch of a nose being broken could be heard. Whoever I had kicked howled painfully.

My satisfaction only lasted for seconds though because a bag was thrown over my head as someone else forced my hands behind me and duct taped them together. I was roughly thrown to the empty back of the car. Glenn cried out just as something heavy landed on my stomach.

"Shit, Tori, are you ok?" Glenn asked and I could feel him roll off of me. I hadn't gotten a good look at the car, things had moved too fast, but considering we had been thrown back into an open space of the car I was thinking it was some kind of van with the backseats taken out. The people in the front, maybe three or four based off the voices, were arguing loudly in Spanish.

"I'm fine." I breathed. The bag was made of burlap. The rough texture rubbed against my skin and there were flickers of light that could be seen from the space between threads. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, what the hell happened?"

"I don't know." I whispered, "Everything was fine and this kid showed up, he started screaming, and then…"

Things had happened so fast. My head was still spinning from it all. Glenn shifted beside me so his side was pressed against mine, "It's gonna be ok. You don't happen to have your knife do you?"

"No, I stabbed a guy then lost it." There was silence as I tried to catch my breath. The car was going fast and I could feel every jarring bump on the road. The men in the front were still arguing loudly and fear began to grow in the pit of my stomach. I let out a shaky breath, "They'll save us, Glenn. We'll be saved." I refused to believe that this was the end of us. "Rick'll find us. I know he will."

* * *

Rick didn't know what to expect when he sprinted down the alleyway, T-Dog only a step behind him. The two of them had heard the distant, strange screams and had abandoned their post immediately. Something had obviously gone wrong and they were needed elsewhere.

As soon as he turned the corner, he saw Daryl slinging the fence at the mouth of the alley shut as dozens of walkers threw themselves against it. On the ground by Daryl's foot was a new addition, but there were two people missing entirely. A random boy was pushing himself off the ground, but Rick wasn't the only one to notice him. Daryl lunged toward him and Rick sprinted down the alley to get there first.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Rick yelled as he threw his arms up to keep Daryl back. The seething man fought against Rick's grip, "Stop it, Daryl!"

"I'm gonna kick your nuts up your throat!" Daryl roared at the boy behind him in response. Rick glanced over his shoulder. The boy had finally gotten up, but T-Dog had him pinned against the wall.

The boy struggled against T-Dog's grip, but T-Dog simply readjusted his hold and pushed him harder against the wall, "Chill out!"

"They took 'em!" Daryl yelled and Rick's attention snapped back to the man he was holding back. "They took Glenn and the doc. That little bastard and his bastard homie friends!" Daryl shoved against Rick again and pointed at the boy, "I'm gonna stomp your ass!"

Rick shoved the murderous looking Daryl back again. The guns were here, but apparently the boy's friends had kidnapped Victoria and Glenn. This news made him far from happy. The walkers made the fence bend forward as more arrived. Rick shook his head, "Get back to the office now. Go!"

T-Dog roughly grabbed the boy and began to drag him down the alley with Daryl just a few steps behind. Rick grabbed the bag of guns and wrapped it around his shoulder. As he was bent over, his eyes caught sight of a bloody knife half sticking out from under the closest garbage bin. That was Victoria's knife. He recognized the blade's shape, but the blood was a new addition. Was the blood from an attacker or had one of them used the knife against her or Glenn? Rick couldn't picture Victoria actually stabbing someone.

"Rick, let's go!" Daryl yelled from down the alley. Rick glanced up to see him waiting by the ladder as look out. He grabbed the knife and rushed over.

T-Dog and the boy weren't in sight as Daryl and Rick climbed to the roof and began to jog over the bridge to the building were the office was. Daryl glanced over at him, "You grab her knife?"

"Yeah. Did she get hurt? Glenn?"

"Hell no." Daryl replied. "She stabbed the jackass that was hittin' me with a damn bat. Jumped on his back and got 'im in the shoulder."

Rick's steps stumbled in surprise, but Daryl continued onward. He had no idea Victoria was capable of something like that. She just seemed so…soft. His surprise gave way to slight admiration before he shook it off and continued to follow on Daryl's heels. No level of shock or admiration was going to matter if he couldn't get her and Glenn back.

Daryl breezed into the office and Rick slammed the door shut as he came in behind. T-Dog was leaning against a desk with his arms crossed as the boy was forced to sit in a desk chair in front of him. The boy didn't look remotely scared. He was slouched over in the seat with his head leaning against the knuckles of one hand. His brown hair was short, a buzz cut, and his bottom lip was broken open and it looked like his nose had been bleeding. There was a tattoo of a single marijuana leaf on the side of his neck, he wore a silver chain, and his white tank top had splotches of dirt and grime.

Rick already had a feeling where this was going. This kid was part of a local gang, Rick would bet money on it. He glanced at Daryl who was pacing a few feet to the side of T-Dog. Rick leaned against the desk by T-Dog, "Those men you were with. We need to know where they went."

"I ain't telling you nothing." The kid snapped.

"Jesus, man." T-Dog groaned with a bob of his head as he pushed himself up so he was actually sitting on the desk, "What the hell happened back there?"

"I told you." Daryl replied sharply as he continued to pace, "This little turd and his douchebag friends came out of nowhere and jumped us!"

The kid scoffed, "Man, you're the one who jumped me, _puto_." He rubbed the top of his head, "Screaming about trying to find his brother like it's my damn fault."

"They took Doc and Glenn! Could've taken Merle too!"

"Merle?" The kid raised his head with a sneer, "What kind of hick name is that? I wouldn't name my dog Merle."

Daryl stopped pacing and rushed forward in a wild attempt to kick the boy in the chest. Rick rose and caught Daryl at last minute so his leg just flailed in the air. They struggled for a moment before Rick shoved him back, "Damn it, Daryl. Back off."

The kid didn't even seem to react at the attempted attack. Daryl came back around and Rick stiffened in response, waiting for another attack to occur. Instead, Daryl calmly went over to where Glenn's bag was resting on top of a desk. Rick watched as Daryl dug out his brother's severed hand.

"You wanna see what happened to the last guy that pissed me off?" Daryl slowly turned and tossed the hand into the boy's lap. The boy paused in shock before it truly dawned on him what had just happened. He let out a cry of disgust before leaping out of the chair and scrambling back towards the wall until he fell onto his ass. Daryl followed him and grabbed the front of his shirt with a growl, "Start with the feet this time!"

Rick marched forward and pulled Daryl back without a word. As unorthodox as his methods were, Rick knew they needed something to scare this kid. It reminded him of the days back when Shane and him had to deal with those they arrested. He played good cop and Shane played bad cop. Although, Shane typically didn't throw limbs at people.

"The men you were with took our friends." He knelt down in front of the boy, "All we want to do is talk to them, see if we can work something out."

The boy, who was all calm and collected moments ago, had finally broken. His lips were pressed together in worry and there was fear in his eyes. He bobbed his head slightly and Rick stood up to offer him a hand up. The boy took it and Rick turned around to start grabbing their belongings. There was no question in going after the two people taken. Rick owed Glenn his life. Without Glenn, Rick would be a corpse sitting in that tank, and Victoria… He made her a promise. He hadn't expected this promise to be so hard to keep, but he intended to keep to his word.

* * *

The car ride was realistically probably around five minutes long, but it felt like I was in the back of that van forever. Glenn and I continued to whisper calming words to each other, but it only helped my anxiety by a little. I couldn't tell if it was doing Glenn any good, I couldn't see the expressions on his face, but by the tone of his voice I would bet he was in the same boat as me. Movement came to a halt as the car was parked.

"Now what?" Glenn whispered. Sliding doors opened and there were new voices but it didn't sound like any of them were getting closer to you. "Why did they even take us?"

That had been the golden question this entire car ride, and it was finally beginning to dawn on me. I shifted even closer than I already was in hopes that no one would be able to hear, "They weren't after us."

There was pause that was filled with the sound of the car doors sliding shut. The van was now filled with silence. Glenn cleared his throat, "You're right. They were after the guns, the guy freaked out when he saw me holding them."

"Did they get them? I hit the ground and didn't see."

"No. I dropped them and then Daryl shot one of them with an arrow. They grabbed us and left the bag there."

I tried to recall bits and pieces from the scene, "They left the kid there too. The one that snuck up on me and Daryl."

"So…we're hostages?"

Suddenly, the back of the van, the one I had been leaning against with my whole weight, swung open and I began to fall back with a startled cry. Glenn cried out for me in panic and I braced for impact, but two hands caught me before my back hit the ground.

"Whoa, whoa. I got you." An unfamiliar voice said as the rest of my body was pulled out so my feet hit the ground. Gravel crunched beneath the bottom of my shoes, the stale smell of Atlanta air still hung around me, now mixing with the musty bag, and a variety of people were talking in Spanish. They must have been at a distance though because the voices were faint. "Get that guy, we're taking them into the storage room for now."

The shock from falling wore off and I thrashed in the guy's hands, "Let us go!"

Someone yelled something in Spanish, much closer than the other voices, and the same hands tightened around my arms, "Hey, hey. You need to be quiet, cariño. The dead will come."

Glenn was struggling against them as well, but he let out a grunt of pain like the air had been knocked out of him. "Glenn!" I cried. Were they hurting him? The person holding me snapped at someone else before dragging me away. I dug my heels into the gravel, trying to throw him off, but he simply mumbled to himself in annoyance and continued to drag me.

Eventually, we got pulled into a building and the floors became tile. The guy dragged me a few more feet before pushing me suddenly to the left. I bumped into someone's chest and the familiar startled cry made me realize it was Glenn. The door slammed shut behind us and we were suddenly alone.

"Are you ok? Did they hit you?" I worried.

Glenn moved away, but he didn't go far, "Yeah, I'm fine though. He just knocked the wind out of me."

I still couldn't see, but I could tell that there wasn't much space around us. The room felt stuffy and this thought was confirmed when the two of tried to walk around only to take a couple steps and hit a tiled wall. Apparently, the room was completely empty as well. Were we the first prisoners to stuck in this storage room or had there been people before us? Maybe that's why the room was left bare. Maybe this wasn't the first time these people have played kidnappers.

"Hey, sit down." I turned so my hands could feel Glenn's side, "Maybe I can use my fingers to pull your bag off."

"Alright." Glenn knelt down and after fumbling for a second my fingers brushed against the rough burlap. I tugged on it a few times and felt it come loose in my hands. "You got it. Thanks, now you sit too."

I quickly sat down where I was, dropping the bag, and I felt Glenn lean in close. A few seconds passed before the bag began to tug under my chin. I tilted my head and the rough burlap scratched my skin before I was free entirely, "Thank you." I quickly turned to see Glenn let the bag fall from his teeth, "You used your mouth?"

Glenn shrugged, "It worked, right?"

The room was just as small as I had pictured and just as eerie. There was a small porthole type window in the top corner that let in a few rays of light, just enough to see the outline of Glenn's face but not any details. It definitely wasn't large enough to use for an escape. We were stuck in that room for maybe another five minutes before loud footsteps began to approach.

"Push yourself back." Glenn said in a panicked tone, "Sit behind me."

"Glenn…" I began with a shake of my head, but it was too late for any sort of argument. The door swung open letting in a flood of light that briefly blinded me. A man groaned in annoyance and a voice spoke up.

"The bags don't matter and we don't need both." There was a pause and I blinked quickly, my eyes finally began to adjust. Standing in the doorway were two different men than the ones that attacked us, "Just grab the girl."

The larger of the two men stepped forward and grabbed my arm. Glenn lunged forward with his shoulder trying to throw the man off, "Hey, leave her alone!"

"Just relax." The guy snapped before dragging me to my feet and pulling me out before slamming the door shut. Both men pushed me down the hall and I felt a small bubble of relief. Better me than Glenn. That thought process might not be the most self-preserving, but no part of me wished whatever this fate was on Glenn. He was a good guy.

The halls I was being led down reminded me of some kind of hospital. There were random doors every few yards and the ones that were open showed patient rooms. Another thing that gave it away were the folder slots built into the wall outside every other door.

"Are we going out front?" The guy holding my arm asked from behind me.

The man a few steps in front of us turned, his dark hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, "No, we're taking her to the edge of the roof."

I threw my leg back catching the man holding me in the shin. He let out a cry of pain and I shook his hand off to try and sprint away. A pair of hands wrapped around my waist and picked me up as I screamed and fought against the hold. Like hell I was going to let them take me to the edge of the roof without a fight. They wanted to throw me off? They were going to have to work for it.

"Will you just stop!?" The man fighting against me barked. He readjusted me so I was thrown over his shoulder and began to climb the stairs. Despite the worry of falling from this spot and hitting my face against the corner of the stairs, I continued to wiggle in his arms to get free.

The building wasn't very tall. A few flight of stairs and suddenly they were walking through a door back into the warm air and bright light. I let out another scream and fought harder.

"If you keep moving I'll accidentally drop you off the edge." The man sighed. Accidentally. Yeah, Right.

" _Oye_!" A man yelled from somewhere below. I recognized the voice as the person who had pulled me out of the van. The man dropped me to feet, making me stumble, and the other guy grabbed my left arm while the man who had been carrying me grabbed the right. They dragged me right to the edge and held me there. A warm breeze hit me as I stood on the very corner of the building's roof. The drop was three stories into a closed off concrete courtyard that was overflowing with weeds pushing through the cracks.

Standing close to the building was a group of thuggish looking men and across from them were two faces I recognized with ease. Rick and Daryl were here. They stood in the middle of the courtyard staring up at me. Daryl had his crossbow at the ready and Rick was holding a rifle of some kind. My lips twitched up in a relieved smile, but it was short lived. The man on the left pushed me forward lightly and my foot slipped off the edge. A scream erupted from my lips, but I was pulled back immediately so both feet were planted on solid concrete.

My heart was beating in my chest at a million miles per hour and I could feel sweat pouring down my features. Out of all the ways to go in this world this seemed pretty shitty. Sure, being torn and eaten alive was definitely worse than this, but that didn't mean I was ok with being thrown to my death.

"I see two options." The man from earlier said loudly. He must have been the leader, "You come back with Miguel and my bag of guns, everybody walks…or, you come back locked and loaded. Then we'll see which sides spills more blood."

The men below turned and began to go back inside the building. Rick looked back up and caught my eye for a second before I was dragged back towards the middle of the roof. They dragged me back down to the first floor where the leader was standing by the stairway entrance waiting for us. He wasn't very tall and had a slim frame. Like many of the other men around here, he looked Hispanic and wore a dark blue button up over a white tank top and jeans. His dark hair was shaved close to his head and his brown eyes looked toward me in a friendly manner. This guy sounded rough and mean outside, but looking at him now he seemed like a different guy. In his hands was Rick's sheriff hat.

"I'm sorry about this, cariño." He shook his head, "You and your friend are safe here, I give you my word. No harm will befall either of you."

I glared at him, "You just threatened to push me off a roof."

"I had to put on a show. I couldn't have your cop friend causing a scene." He pressed his lips together and looked genuinely sincere in his regret. "We need those guns."

I shook my head, "He isn't going to hand them over. They're ours and we need them."

The man chuckled and his lips curled into a small smile, "I'm hoping your friend changes his mind." He glanced to the men at my side, "Take her to the main room. I had her friend moved there already. Just keep an eye on them. There's no need for the bags or the duct tape." He looked to me, "Am I right?"

This guy didn't seem dangerous. He seemed sincere in his apology to me and just looked like a desperate person looking for a solution. Perhaps that's what made him dangerous though. Regardless of his own personal morals, desperate people would do anything especially. I stepped toward him and didn't let my glare waver. Two could play at the scare tactics game, "Rick Grimes is gonna kick your ass."

The leader nodded once and set Rick's hat on top of my head before the men started to push me down the hall. This time I didn't struggle and just let them lead me to wherever the hell they wanted me to be. The guy had said Glenn had already been moved there and I wanted to be with him while we waited for our rescue team.

"Keep walking." The guy behind me said, he suddenly removed the grip on my arms and began to peel the duct tape around my wrists. I cringed when he ripped off the last bit off my bare skin, but didn't let the cry of pain get past my lips. "In here."

Up ahead was a pair of double doors that were already open. As we stepped in I took note of the many empty tables surrounded by wooden chairs. There were candles and newspapers scattered about the room and the wall across from me was a large stage with fuchsia curtains and a cross hanging above it.

"Tori!"

I whipped my head to the left to see Glenn standing there with his hands free as well, "Glenn!" He met me halfway and we wrapped our arms around each other in a tight hug. If I really thought hard about it, it seemed strange. Glenn was a guy I met this morning. The only facts I knew about him were that his name was Glenn, he was Korean, and he used to deliver pizzas. I didn't even know what his last name was. However, I was sincerely happy to see him alive and well. The guy had already begun to grow on me. Maybe it was because of our precarious situation. Nothing bonded people together better than getting kidnapped during the apocalypse.

"Did they hurt you?" Glenn pulled back and let his eyes examine me, "I heard you scream."

"No", I shook my head, "They just used me to scare Rick and Daryl." Glenn's eyes widened in surprise and I grinned, "They're here! I'm sure T-Dog is around here too. They came for us!"

A slow smile spread across Glenn's features, "That's awesome."

"Sit against the wall." It was only then I remembered we weren't alone. Glenn glanced over my shoulder before leading me to a half tiled, half plastered wall where the two of us sat side by side. Glenn had one knee pulled up and I noticed a bloody splotch on his jeans.

"Is your knee ok?"

Glenn cringed, "That's not my blood. I'm pretty sure it's yours." He lifted a hand and pointed to the gash I had bandaged earlier, "You busted your eyebrow open again. The bandage is broken."

I reached up and ripped the broken butterfly bandage off. There was no wet blood dripping down my face so I assumed it was ok for now. The scratches on my arms were still scabbed over and my feet felt dry. However, when I reached back I could feel a damp spot on my shoulder blade and my fingers were red when I pulled them back.

"Your chin is scuffed up too." Glenn pointed. I lifted my other hand to touch my chin and felt the broken skin. It wasn't too bad. The skin was just rubbed raw, but it was sore and would probably only get more sore as time passed.

"Yeah, I hit the ground hard. I bit the inside of my cheek too." I shrugged, "You got hit with the bat though, are you sure you're ok?"

Glenn nodded, "My side is kind of sore, but I think I'm ok."

"Can I check?" He nodded again and leaned away from me so I could pull his shirt up. The right side of his ribcage had already bruised and it would look twice as bad tomorrow. "Does it hurt to breathe?"

"No, just when I move."

"I don't think you have any broken ribs then." I lightly pressed my hand against his side to confirm. "It'll hurt like a bitch tomorrow though."

Glenn chuckled and pulled his shirt down, "Is that your official prognosis, doctor?"

"Damn right."

His eyes darted up, "So how'd you get Rick's hat? I picked it up with the bag of guns, but I dropped it in the van."

"The leader had it when I came down the stairs. He put it on my head."

"Guillermo?"

I blinked in confusion, "What?"

"Guillermo." Glenn repeated, "That's the leaders name."

"Did you meet him?"

"No, the guys that let me out of that room said it. At least, the way they talked about him it sounded like he was the leader." Glenn said in an offhanded manner. "Was he crazy? Or an asshole or something?"

I thought back to Guillermo and slowly shook my head, "He wasn't an asshole. He wasn't even mean, but…jury's out on whether or not he's crazy." The hat, which was a bit too big for me, slid forward into my eyesight. I pushed it back up, "I can't believe you picked Rick's hat up though."

Glenn chuckled and shrugged, "I was already there. So, why not? It looks good on you though. Really matches well with my shirt."

I glanced down and realized I was still wearing Glenn's button up shirt, "Oh, shit. I forgot about this." Quickly, I pulled it off to hand back over when my eyes landed on the small patch of bright red blood. "Oh my God, I bled through your shirt!"

"Are you ok?"

I rolled my eyes at his concern, "I'm fine, Glenn. I just feel bad about your shirt. First, I bleed through Rick's jacket and now this. I'm a train wreck."

"Don't worry about it." Glenn took the shirt and folded it up, "Carol's really good at getting blood stains out of stuff." It was silent for a couple minutes before Glenn cleared his throat, "How's Rick gonna fix this?"

"Guillermo wants the guns and that kid. I think it's a trade type of situation."

"Do you think he'll make the trade?"

I paused in thought. The guns were heavily needed in camp, that was without a doubt. There was no telling what Rick or Daryl or T-Dog would choose to do. Maybe it was smarter for them to just hand over the guns? It'd save them a lot of trouble. "I honestly don't know if he will or not, but he'll do something." I smiled, "Rick is gonna come get us."

Glenn didn't reply, but there was a small smile on his face as well. Just knowing Rick had come in the first place conquered any doubts I originally had. It didn't make sense for either of us to put blind faith in any of the guys out there. The amount of time we knew each other was insignificant, yet I had faith in them. I had faith they'd come to our rescue. It all went back to having to survive this hellhole together. Trust and faith came easy when the person had already saved your life once.

"Do you hear that?" Glenn asked.

I opened my mouth to question what he was even talking about, but the sound of quiet barking cut me off. A few seconds later, three small Chihuahuas ran into the gym from the far door. The dogs were yapping at each other and running around. As if that wasn't surprising enough, a large group of people came through the door next talking to themselves in a relaxed manner. These people didn't look like they were part of whatever gang was hanging around here and I only thought that because nearly all of them were over 60 years old.

"Do you see the old people or is that just me?" Glenn asked slowly.

I bobbed my head in shock as a younger man jogged in after them, "G needs you two. We're getting ready for when the cop shows back up."

The guys watching us jogged away as the old people settled in the chairs and tables in the middle of the room comfortably. One of the older women laid down a dog bed and the tiny Chihuahuas went over to lie by her side.

"This is so freaking weird." I whispered to Glenn who agreed.

Another guy walked in, probably to keep watch, and I recognized him as the one I stabbed. His shirt was still bloodstained and it looked like a towel of some kind was wrapped around it tightly. He sat down next to an older man with a friendly smile and said something I couldn't quite catch.

"I don't think these guys are the bad guys, Glenn." I slowly stood up and Glenn followed my lead. Carefully, I crossed the room toward the man I had stabbed. His eyes shot to me and he stood up with a glare. His dark hair was held back with a blue bandana and his jawline had scruff along it.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

"Carlito, you do _not_ speak to woman like that." The old man sitting next to him said with a shake of his head. He was one of the older men here, maybe in his 70s if you had to guess. He was African American with thick glasses, short white hair, and a yellow collared shirt. He also wore a blue cardigan over it and a gold cross around his neck. "Excuse him, ma'am. He's had a rough day. Got injured outside."

I smiled at the man, "I…noticed." Carlito scoffed and it probably had something to do with the fact that I hadn't just noticed his wound I had caused it. I cleared my throat, "Anyways, this is Glenn, and I'm Tori. I'm a…a doctor actually and I thought I'd offer my services?"

Carlito's eyes widened in surprise but they narrowed again in hesitance, "Really? What's the catch?"

"You don't turn down an offer of help from a woman either, Carlito." The old man said again with a sigh making me chuckle in amusement, "Honestly." He shook his head, "Go get some supplies for the good doctor to use."

"Fine. Stay here, Mr. Gilbert."

"I aint goin' nowhere."

Carlito rose and walked away. Mr. Gilbert motioned toward the seat beside him, "Please have a seat." I sat down with a smile and he glanced at Glenn, "Pull yourself a chair, son."

By time Glenn grabbed a chair and began to carry it over, Carlito came back with a small first aid kit. He also began to drag over another chair as he noticed the rest were occupied. I took the kit from him and twisted so I was facing him. Glenn began to talk to Mr. Gilbert as I took off the bloody towel. He unbuttoned the top portion of his shirt and pulled his arm out with a cringe.

"That looks like it hurts." I commented and grabbed alcohol swabs from the box to wipe the wound down.

He cringed and hissed, "Yeah, it isn't pleasant. You gonna apologize for stabbing me?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, "I guess I feel kinda bad, but you were hitting my friend with a baseball bat." I pressed the alcohol swab slightly into his wound and he hissed again in pain, "So probably not, no."

Carlito chuckled, "Fair enough."

"It needs stitches to prevent infection." I used the towel that had been covering it earlier to mop up some blood that was leaking out, "But I can't stitch it up right now, there's some foreign material in there. I can clean it out for you."

He nodded, "That's fine. I can have Felipe sew it up later."

I cleaned the wound once more, using the forceps to pull out the larger foreign objects, before using the towel to wrap it up. This time I wrapped it tighter than it had been so the pressure would remain on the wound. A chair scraped across the ground as Glenn quickly stood up, "Mr. Gilbert!?" Carlito jumped up as well and I turned around to see the older man gasping for air. Glenn was facing me now, "He was talking about his granddaughter when he just- _this_!"

The others in the room were beginning to surround him in worry. I cleared my throat, "Everyone needs to back up. We need to give him space." I shoved Glenn's chair away from so I could kneel down in front of him. He could barely breathe, he was having an asthma attack. "Does he have an inhaler? Where is his inhaler?"

Carlito shook his head, "Felipe should know but…" He rushed forward to check the pockets of the wheelchair Mr. Gilbert was sitting in. "Someone go get Felipe!"

"Carlito, does he have any medical issues?"

"Asthma."

I resisted the urge the groan and nodded, " _Other_ than asthma?"

"I don't know!"

"Mr. Gilbert, I need you to stay calm. Take deep breaths and try to match my breathing rate, ok?" I slowed my own breaths into a deep steady pattern then leaned forward and pressed my hands against the front part of his inner shoulder in hopes to relax the muscles. Drinking caffeine would probably be a bigger help, but I didn't think he could calm down enough to drink a soda without choking. Luckily, my worries subsided as Mr. Gilbert began to calm and try and take wheezy, short breaths.

"What the hell is this?"

My head snapped around at the sound of Rick's gruff, southern twang. Him, Daryl, and T-Dog stood only a few feet away by a little old lady with curlers in her hair and the other guy that had attacked us earlier. He rushed forward pulling an inhaler out of his hand and I stepped aside so he could administer it.

"An asthma attack." Glenn replied simply. Daryl still had a shotgun half raised and a look of confusion on his face. "He couldn't catch his breath all of a sudden. Tori's been helping him."

T-Dog scoffed and pointed at us, "I thought you two were being fed to Satan's evil dogs!"

"Satan's evil dogs?" I turned my head to look at the Chihuahuas who were standing up now with their tails wagging then slowly grinned at him, "I mean, I don't like Chihuahuas either, man, but I think that's a kinda strong description."

T-Dog rolled his eyes at me and my smile grew in amusement.

"Can I have a word with you?"

I glanced over to see Rick pulling Guillermo off to the side. The older folks surged closer to Mr. Gilbert, who was doing fine now, and I took a step away not only to give them room, but also so I could continue to hear the conversation.

"You are the dumbest son of a bitch I ever met." Rick said firmly. His jaw clenched then unclenched as anger tinged his words, "We walked in there ready to kill every last one of you."

Guillermo smiled and turned his head slightly to make eye contact with me, "Just like you said he would, cariño. You know your man well." I shifted awkwardly as Rick looked back at me as well. Guillermo continued, "I'm glad it didn't go down that way."

"If it had, that blood would be on my hands." Rick argued. He was still visibly pissed, but also relieved.

"Hey don't drop it man! We got fragiles!" A younger, female voice barked. On the other side of the room, two men and one teenage girl were walking through carrying random bags and various items. The girl had a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. It was dark blue with accents of white and light blue on the handles and pockets.

I turned back to focus on the conversation I wanted to hear, but I had missed a good chunk of it. Guillermo was speaking, "-staff took off. Left all the old folks here to die. Me and Felipe are the only ones who stayed."

"What are you? Doctors?"

"Felipe's a nurse. Special Care provider." Guillermo shrugged, "I was the custodian."

Slowly, I turned my head back to see the backs of those three people as they walked down a long hallway. I was thinking about that duffel bag again. Why did it feel so familiar? I didn't realize my feet were even moving until I reached the doorway of the hall. Then the urge hit me. I needed to see that bag.

"Hey! Wait up!" I yelled and sprinted down the hall. The three people turned to look at me, but none of them had hostility in their gazes. One man was tall and gangly with glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. His blond hair was a mess and his arms were filled with random electronic parts. The other guy was bald and thickly built with plain brown eyes. The girl stood out among them, not just because of her age, but because of the bright blue streaks in her hair. They had grown out some, I could see the black roots that matched the rest of her hair, but they were still vibrant in color.

The girl's brown eyes narrowed in distrust, "Can we help you?"

"That duffel bag…I…" I let out a slow sigh, "I think it's mine."

Now that I was closer, I could see that how beat up and empty the bag looked. It was heavily leaning toward one side, which meant something was in it. Her arms tightened around it making the bag twist, "How do I know you ain't lying to me?"

"What?"

"Maybe you just want it for yourself."

I stepped forward and pulled the bag towards me despite the girl's protests. Monogramed on the front were the initials 'VS'.

"Are those your initials?" It took me a few seconds to realize the tall, thin man was the one who spoke.

"Where did you find it?" I answered his own question with one of my own.

He nodded with his head toward the left, "Liza picked it up not far from here in the middle of an intersection. It was pushed off to the side with a bunch of trash and rubble."

"Can I see it?" I asked Liza directly and kept my grip around the edge of the bag that I had grabbed earlier. "Please?"

Liza narrowed her eyes, "What do the initials stand for?"

"Victoria Smith."

She rolled her eyes before handing the bag over. With a slight nod, I knelt down to zip open the duffel. Like I had suspected, there was next to nothing in the bag, but what I hadn't expected was the few items to be salt. In total, there were four cylinders of Morton salt.

"Were you a cook or somethin'?" Liza asked.

I shook my head, "Good question." After searching all the other pockets, I came to the conclusion that there was nothing else in the bag. I sighed and stood back up, "Why did _you_ want the salt so bad?"

"I don't care about the salt. I just want the bag." Liza argued. She pouted slightly before crossing her arms, "So do you still want it or…?" Both men scolded her.

"Consider it yours."

"Thanks, you rock." Liza replied and scooped the bag off the ground. She pulled out a container of salt before zipping it up. I shot her a questioning look, but any question I had about her actions was answered when she tossed the salt to me. "A parting gift."

I shook the salt with a small, forced smile, "Thanks."

Liza whipped around and continued down the hall without a backwards glance. The men gave me brief nods before following after them. I just remained where I was with my eyes on the salt in my hand. Having a bag filled with just salt was weird as hell, but the biggest question I had was why my bag was sitting in some random intersection of Atlanta. Had I already been here? The possibility existed that Rick was wrong. Sure, my car front had been pointing in the direction of Atlanta, but maybe it just got turned around in the accident. What if I had already been to Atlanta and I was heading somewhere else?

A hand touched my uninjured shoulder and I swung around in surprise. Daryl stood there with a questioning gaze. He didn't ask me anything or make a snide comment about my jumpiness. He just stared at me with his eyebrows furrowed in thought. His eyes darted down to the salt in my hand and his eyes narrowed in further confusion.

"Salt." I forced an awkward chuckle, "To season your squirrels." Daryl didn't reply to my attempt at a joke. I cleared my throat, "Are we, uh, leaving?"

"Yeah." He mumbled and grabbed the strap hanging over his shoulder. He swung the bag forward and I recognized it as my own. Daryl had brought me my bag? He held it out to me and after getting over the surprise of seeing it I took it from him. He turned and said over his shoulder, "Hurry it up."

I quickly shoved the salt into my bag and jogged after him. We walked back down the hallway toward the big room with the rest of the group. Mr. Gilbert caught my eye, he was waving at me and I returned the friendly gesture earnestly. Guillermo was finishing his conversation with Rick and from what I could tell, Rick had given him a number off guns and matching ammunition.

"Stay safe." Rick reached forward.

Guillermo took his hand with a small smile, "You too, amigo." T-Dog grabbed the remaining bag of guns and left the room with Daryl a step behind. Guillermo stepped away from Rick and offered his hand to Glenn who shook it, "I'm sorry for the false pretenses. Hope there are no hard feelings."

"We're good." Glenn nodded.

"I'm sorry to you too, cariño." Guillermo looked to me, "It's a sin to make such a pretty face bleed. I'm sincerely sorry."

I chuckled, "Most of these injuries came before the whole misunderstanding. What you're doing here is good. You're a good man."

Guillermo smiled at my compliment, "I try to be. You and your group have safe travels through the city."

Final goodbyes were said and the five of us quickly left the building. It felt late in the day to me, but based off the sun in the sky sunset wouldn't come for another couple hours. Rick and Glenn were in the front of the group leading us through the city, but it was getting harder to keep up their quick pace. My foot was really starting to ache and my sock was beginning to feel damp again. I had no right to say anything about it though. Rick had told me I needed rest, but I had been determined to come to Atlanta. Not that this trip had really accomplished much for me. I guess I had found the sign I was looking for. My duffel bag had been here which meant at some point I had been here. Considering I had left Atlanta that must mean there was nothing left for me in this city, but where had I been going? My driver's license said I was from Alabama. Perhaps, there was a home for me there with people waiting for me to show up. I could always try and drive directly to the address on my license. That option wasn't very appealing though because it meant I'd have to drive there alone and as today so efficiently proved, trying to be on my own in a world like this wasn't the greatest idea. If I left and got kidnapped by a group of people, a group that was actually bad, there would be no one coming to save me. I'd be my own back-up and that was a terrifying thought.

"Victoria?"

My eyes snapped into focus. Rick had slowed down so he was now walking beside me while the others were a good ten or so feet ahead. I got so caught up in my thoughts that I forgot to keep up with the group, "Sorry, Rick. I'll try and keep up."

"Are you alright?" There was concern and worry in his light blue eyes.

"I'm fine." I said quickly with a smile, "My foot is fine. My shoulder started to bleed again, but that's from getting pushed and pulled around, I think."

Rick's gaze was skeptical, but he didn't press further. Instead, he shook his head, "Daryl mentioned you were jumpy when he went to find you earlier, and now you seem…distant. Is everything ok?"

"Really, it is. I just got…lost in my thoughts." I smiled in hopes that I could convince him that everything was truly ok. All things considering.

"Maybe we can come back down here another day. Spend the time looking for a sign for you?"

I was touched at the offer, but I slowly shook my head, "Thanks, Rick, but…I don't think there's anything for me in Atlanta. Call it a…gut feeling." These words made him narrow his eyes in confusion and I could understand why. I had been so adamant about coming down and finding a piece of myself and now I was turning down another opportunity. I wasn't sure I wanted to talk about it though so I settled on changing the subject. "Oh, hey." I pulled the hat off my head. For the longest time, I had forgotten it was even there. I just got used to the weight on my head, "I believe this is yours."

"I noticed you wearing it when I first came in." Rick laughed. He took the hat and placed it over his own head. "Where'd you get it?"

"Glenn picked it up with the bag. It just got taken with us is all. It's him you should thank."

Rick tilted his head slightly, "It seems I have a lot to thank him for."

His words sounded oddly distant so I lightly bumped into his side with my shoulder, a grin on my lips, "I know your secret, you know."

"My secret?" Rick questioned with a slow smile growing on his features.

"Yeah." I chuckled, "You came all the way back to Atlanta for a hat."

Rick let out a small laugh, "Don't tell anybody."

There was a beat of silence, and the two of us continued to linger a couple feet away from the others. I cleared my throat, "Thanks, Rick. For coming for us. I knew you would."

"Of course." He replied without hesitance, "I made you a promise I plan to keep, and Glenn…I owe him my life. I was no one to him when he saved me yesterday, just some idiot in a tank."

I recalled the story Glenn had told me. A lot of what happened between him and Glenn could be compared to what happened between him and me. I was a nobody to him too. Rick Grimes was a man I had known less than 48 hours, but it felt like there was so much I needed to thank him for already. I opened my mouth to try and express even a fraction of it, but words failed me. A sigh slipped out instead and I settled for a nod, "Just… thanks, Rick. For everything."

He reached out and gave my shoulder a light squeeze, his fingers careful to avoid my injury. Rick used his other hand to reach for his belt. He had my knife in his hand and offered it over, "I found this in the alley. Do you know what those symbols mean?"

I took the knife and flipped it over in my hand to look over the symbols again, "Your guess is as good as mine. It looks kind of like Arabic, but I know nothing about that language so that guess could be entirely wrong too." My hand tightened around the handle, "It's kind of a creepy knife, but I really like having it. It's a small part of my past, I guess."

"That's understandable." Rick replied. "Come on, we should catch up."

Rick picked up his pace and I followed step for step, biting back the wince that came to me every time my foot hit the ground. I recognized the area we were in, it wasn't far from the railroad tracks which meant we'd be at the van soon enough. Being at the van meant I wouldn't have to walk anymore and that was reason enough to push myself harder now. A five minute half-jog got us to the railroad tracks. I was in the middle of the group again, hardly by choice, when we turned the past a group of stone pillars. My eyes shot to the van, or at least they went to where the van was supposed to be.

"Wait, guys?" I breathed as we all came to a halting stop.

The van was nowhere in sight.

"Oh my God." Glenn blurted.

Daryl spun around slightly, looking at the surrounding area, "Where the hell's our van?"

"We left it right there." Glenn's voice was panicked and shocked, "Who would take it?"

Rick was the one to answer, "Merle."

There was silence as I soaked in that answer. It was a possibility. Not only that, it was the possibility with the highest chances of being true. It wasn't like a walker committed grand theft auto.

"He's gonna be takin' some vengeance back to camp." Daryl said, his eyes were downcast and he even looked partly regretful.

Rick spun around to face Glenn, "Which way is faster for us to run, the forest or the road?"

"The forest is less distance." Glenn sighed, "But either way is long. It'll take at least an hour and a half."

"Then we need to get moving." Rick replied bluntly and began to job ahead. We followed after him at the same jogging pace. I wasn't entirely sure if my body was going to make it all the way back to camp. My foot was done, but I had to at least try. Merle wasn't going to be happy when he showed up in camp and nobody wanted to see what he would do.

* * *

It took as long as expected, cutting through the forest, and there was still a bit of a way to go. The sun had disappeared maybe twenty minutes ago making the woods around us dark and foreboding. My hands tightened around the shotgun Rick had handed me, but my clammy hands kept slipping. Sweat poured out from every pore I had and the agonizing ache that had been started at the bottom of my foot seemed to be radiating up my leg. I needed to sit down, to get pressure off of my foot, but there just was no time. The taste of blood covered my tongue as I continued to bite down on my bottom lip to avoid letting out a cry of pain.

"Tori, you good?" T-Dog suddenly asked. It was too dark out to see my pained expression and I hadn't uttered a single complaint since we left Atlanta. Did he hear one of my muffled whimpers of pain?

I wasn't entirely certain I could open my mouth and lie in a believable manner. If I separated my teeth from my bottom lip, I was positive that all that would come out were pained sobs.

Gunshots and screams filled the once quiet air.

" _Oh God, no_." Rick mumbled in horror. He sprinted ahead to the source of the screams. The pain I felt shot to the back of my mind as fear filled my body. We stepped into camp in the middle of a full out attack. However, Merle and the truck were nowhere to be seen. Instead, a small hoard of walkers stumbled through camp. Gunshots fired around me, but I remained frozen in place. The small campfires around camp cast an eerie glow on the surrounding bloodshed. Long, distorted shadows were cast from the geeks that knelt over once living people, gorging on flesh.

People were screaming all around, some in pain, some in fear, and one deep voice in particular was barking out orders. In all the noise, the faint sound of my name being called caught my attention and snapped me back into the moment. I spun around just in time to see geek reach out for me with its long, pale arms. My finger squeezed down on the trigger, a pure reaction move, but nothing happened. The trigger wouldn't pull back. The walker got closer, its dark features hidden by the shadows, and it continued to reach out toward me.

 _'_ _Safety! Move, you need to get to safety!'_ The loud, involuntary thought flashed through my mind, but all it did was remind me of my error.

I used the thumb of my firing hand to shove the small safety button above the trigger then immediately fired. The walker was close enough that the shotgun pellets didn't disperse far. Instead, the concentrated blast hit the geek in the center of the chest creating a gaping hole. It flew backwards into the dirt and I stumbled back from the force of the kickback.

The walker began to push itself off the ground again, its ugly head rolling from side to side, undisturbed by the hole in its chest. It only sat up a few inches before someone ran over and slammed their foot into the skull.

"You good?" It took me a moment before I realized it had been Daryl that ran over and killed the walker. His crossbow was slung over his back and he held a shotgun.

I nodded, "Y-Yeah. I'm ok."

"Amy!"

I spun around again, looking for the person who called out so desperately, and my eyes landed on Andrea who was knelt on the ground outside the RV sobbing hysterically. They were close enough to a campfire that I could see all the blood. I could see Amy lying under her sister gasping for breath. I dropped the shotgun and tried to race forward, but Daryl grabbed my arm and yanked me back.

"Let me go!" I shook him off, but he sidestepped so he was still in my way, "I need to- I _need_ to help!"

He shook his head and took a step toward me, "It got 'er in the neck. She's gone."

I stumbled back a step in exhaustion and fell to my ass. The night had calmed, the panic and terror that once filled the air was gone, but there was still a tenseness that lingered, a sense of dread that hung over everyone. Dead bodies lay scattered around the campsite. Some were walkers, unrecognizable creatures that were once human. Others wore faces I had seen just hours earlier around camp. They had been smiling, talking, and above all else they had been _alive_.

Now they were mutilated and torn.

The blood that pooled around them was muted by the dim firelight. How quickly things had gone wrong. It took less than a day for this camp to be upturned and left bleeding.

Daryl walked away, slipping into the woods with his crossbow raised, and a hand suddenly settled on my shoulder. I glanced up to see Glenn looking down at me in worry. His features held more than just worry though. There was grief and there was guilt as well.

I gave him a numb nod and lifted a shaky hand to rub at my features. If only I could rub away the exhaustion and pain. The night was silent minus the crackling of the campfires and Andrea's distraught, loud sobs.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Howdy, hey partners. So here is the newest update along side a quick announcement! THIS STORY WILL BE UPDATED EVERY SUNDAY. However, I will NOT post a new chapter next Sunday. I'm in the middle of finals and getting ready to graduate so that comes first. Sorry! Leave me lots of reviews though, and tell your TWD or SPN buddies about this story!_

* * *

Chapter Four:

A Name For Every Day of the Week

* * *

 _"Memories are the architecture of our identity." –unknown_

* * *

 _Where the fuck was I?_

Sunlight filled the space around me making every speck of dust visible. All I could hear was my slow breaths and the occasional muted murmur from outside the space I occupied. Pain radiated up from my right foot and something hard and plastic was digging into my left side.

I was lying across a dark, leather seat with a thin flap of roof above me.

This was a car. I was in the backseat of a car.

Slowly, I pushed myself up with an involuntary grunt and things began to make sense. Outside the car window right in front of me were trees and an empty dirt road. Out the front windshield was the dark green hood of the jeep I currently sat in and further out was the camp I had entered into just yesterday. The memory of everything that had happened last night hit me hard. After Amy had died in her sister's arms, I walked to the cars parked behind the RV in a line and chose to crawl into the back seat of the jeep, which was furthest from camp. The plan had been to clean up my foot, but all I remembered was passing out the moment my head hit the leather seat.

I reached down to the floorboard with my right hand, to pull the first aid kit out of my book bag, but the door by my feet suddenly swung open. My left hand shot up from my side with the hunting knife clutched tightly in it. Rick stood in the open doorway with an apologetic look, "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

He had on his uniform pants from yesterday, but he had pulled off his button up uniform shirt and left on only his white under t-shirt. In his hand was an old, black walkie-talkie. I glanced at the knife in my hand and let it fall to my lap, "No, it's ok. You're fine." Had I slept with that knife in my hand? "What's up?"

Rick cracked a small smile, "Just thought I'd check in on you. Saw you were awake." He reached forward with his free hand, "Need a hand?"

I took his hand and let him pull me to the edge of the car's seat then reached down to drag my book bag with me. Rather than getting out, I spoke, "What happened last night? After… _you know_."

"Most of us passed out like you." Rick sighed, with where he stood and where I sat, I was only a few inches below eye level with him. He glanced over his shoulder to the camp, "We're dealing with the aftermath now."

"Guess I woke up just in time then." I replied and moved to get out. The moment I put weight on my right foot pain went shooting up my leg. I cried out and started to fall to the side only for Rick's arms to shoot out and catch me.

"Victora!"

I gritted my teeth, "Ah- _Damn it_." Rick set his hands on my hips with a nod and I pushed off my left foot to help as he lifted me back into the raised back seat. "That hurt."

Rick's face was scrunched in worry, "Your foot?" I nodded and he handed me the walkie-talkie then lifted my right foot to hold in his hands. He shot me a questioning look, asking for permission, and I nodded with a grimace. I already knew my foot wasn't going to look very pretty right now. Rick unzipped the side of my boot and carefully slid it off my foot before handing it to me to shove into my bag. My sock was stained with dried blood and crusted to my skin. "This is gonna hurt some more."

"Just pull it off. Bandages and all." I said and tightened my hand around the walkie-talkie. Rick pulled the sock off and with the sock came the bandages and the scabbed over portions of my wounds that had fused with the crusty bandages. I hissed out in pain and Rick flinched, either at my hiss or at the sight of my atrocious foot.

"This doesn't look good, Victoria."

"Yeah, it doesn't _feel_ good either."

Rick made eye contact with me, "I think you should probably wash it out before anything else."

I pulled my foot away from him and rested it against my left knee so I could examine the torn flesh. All of the wounds I had cared for yesterday were inflamed and swollen. The spots that weren't cut and swollen were bruised and sore. I could see spots where bits of the bandage were still stuck to my skin.

"You're right." I nodded, "I probably need to wash it out at the quarry."

"You also need to stay the hell off it today."

"Rick, you guys need my help-"

" _No_." He shook his head, "I let you come to help us yesterday, but I'm serious now. You're no good to us with a bum foot. I want you off it all day today."

I groaned, but didn't bother arguing. He wasn't wrong. If my foot got any worse than this I was seriously screwed. It'd be a hassle trying to stay off it all day, but it'd be a bigger hassle to lose my foot over something this stupid.

"You got it, boss man." I mumbled and pulled my book bag on. "You have any bright ideas about how I get around with one foot, Rick?"

I pushed out of the jeep, landing with all my weight on my left foot. My body shook at the sudden pressure and I began to wobble in place. Rick reached forward and slipped his arm around my right side so my bum leg was between us, "With the help of friends."

"That's a feel-good theory, but…" My words were put on pause as Rick helped me limp away from the side of the jeep towards the middle of the dirt road that led up to camp. "I _can't_ be a burden, Rick. Not today."

At the end of the dirt road was the main portion of the campsite. Off to the left I could see Lori, Carol, Dale, and Shane. The women were sitting on a log further back with Dale standing beside them, a rifle slung over his shoulder, while Shane sat in front of a campfire that was heating a kettle. Away from them, in the center of the clearing, T-Dog brought a pick axe down into the head of a dead body before him and Glenn picked it up by the shoulders and feet and threw the body into a larger fire on the other side of the RV. Right in front of the RV though was Andrea and Amy. Andrea still sat over her dead sister's body in mourning.

Rick and I made our way to the clearing, but it was a slow process that frustrated me to no end. I didn't want to be the camp's cripple. I wanted to help, to do my share. There were bodies to be buried, bodies to be burned, and it felt wrong to sit aside and do nothing while everyone else worked. As we got close to where the women were sitting, eyes began to look in our direction. Dale gave me a worried look that I waved off with a forced smile.

"She still won't move?" Rick asked softly. He readjusted his hold on me, taking more of my weight, but his eyes were glued to Andrea.

"She won't even talk to us." Lori sighed. My eyes drifted from Carol, who didn't look up from watching Andrea, to Lori who's gaze darted from her husband and me skeptically. The look faded back to grief quickly though, "She's been there all night. What do we do?"

Shane rose from his seat so he now stood on my other side, "Can't just leave Amy like that. We need to deal with it." His voice was low and gruff, it was filled with as much grief as the others, but he hid the sadness better. "Same as the others."

"I'll tell her how it is." Rick bobbed his head. He gave my arm a slight squeeze before pulling his arm away slowly. I hoped the forced smile I gave him was reassuring enough that I'd be fine standing on my own for now. I was surprised when Shane stepped closer and offered his arm to me. It took a moment to recover before I gratefully leaned against his arm for support.

We all watched with baited breath as Rick crossed the space to speak to the heart broken sister. He begun to kneel down beside her, her name half off his tongue, when she whirled around to cock and aim a silver pistol at Rick's head. I jumped in surprise, Lori snapped up, letting out a soft gasp, but Rick just slowly stood back up. Andrea's glare looked more broken than angry, but her words didn't quiver or shake, "I know how the safety works."

The words didn't make all that much sense to me overall. Was she just emphasizing that she knew how the handgun worked? Rick nodded without hesitation though and backed away with a hand raised in surrender, "Alright. Ok. I'm sorry."

Rick turned around and came back to our little circle of people. He stood across from Shane and I now, and his gaze went to his right. I followed it in time to see Daryl rush over to the campfire. His eyes were narrowed in a glare and he looked ready for a fight. I only wondered if it'd be a physical one or not.

"Y'all can't be serious." Daryl's crossbow was gone and he now had a pick axe resting on his shoulder. With his other hand he motioned toward Andrea and Amy's body, "Gonna let that girl hamstring us?" He scoffed, but kept his voice lowered, "The dead girl's a _time bomb_."

As much as I didn't like Daryl's wording, I knew he wasn't wrong. Soon enough, Amy's body would rise again, but it wouldn't be the friendly girl that greeted me and offered her own boots for me to wear. It'd be one of _them_.

"What do you suggest?" Rick asked. There was slight annoyance in his tone, but his eyes led me to believe he was actually hoping Daryl would have some sort of usable plan.

Daryl stepped closer to Rick, "Take the shot." He shook his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He pointed to his own temple with two fingers, "Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."

There was no malice in Daryl's tone as he spoke his plan. He was simply stating the obvious, and Rick seemed to be considering it. I didn't blame him. The thought of a possible walker being only a couple feet away from us was terrifying. It made sense to want to get rid of the threat before the threat even happened. However, as much sense as the plan made, it was also callous.

"No." Lori said firmly. She slowly sat back down on the log, rubbing her face in exhaustion.

I nodded quickly, "Lori is right." Eyes shot to me, but I didn't back down. "That plan makes sense and it _would_ work, but think of Andrea. You can't do that to her, not while she's sitting over her sister's body like this. I get that it's dangerous but…" I sighed and looked to Daryl, "What if it was Merle? Would you want someone else to put him down from a distance as you mourned?"

Daryl's features hardened slightly before he scoffed and turned away. Rick and Shane shared a look before nodding in agreement. It seemed like the threat was going to be ignored for now. I just prayed that Andrea knew what the hell she was doing.

" _What are you guys doing_?"

My eyes went past Rick at Glenn's raised voice. He wore a black t-shirt and the same red ball cap I had seen him in before. Morales, the Hispanic man with two children, and Daryl were dragging a body toward the large fire. I didn't recognize the dead body, but I knew it had to have been someone from camp. The corpse was too fresh.

"This is for _geeks_. Our people go over _there_." Glenn motioned to a line of dead bodies off to the side with a gloved hand. Daryl and Morales didn't slow down.

"What's the difference? They're all infected." Daryl argued.

Glenn cut them off, forcing them to stop dragging and rise to their full height; " _Our_ people go in that row _over there_." I could see the pain on his features from here. "We _don't_ burn them!" Glenn's voice shook slightly as he yelled, but he regained his composure quickly, "We _bury_ them. _Understand_?"

"Tori, you're bleeding."

My attention snapped back to the people around me. Dale had spoken and he pointed down to my foot. I followed his attention and saw blood begin to drip from my wounds and into the dirt below. As if this ground needed anymore spilt blood. The wounds hurt, they still ached, but they weren't the center of my attention. I lifted my gaze to Rick, giving him a pleading look, but he shook his head firmly, "No. You're not helping here. You need rest." Rick glanced over his shoulder before stepping around the fire, "I'll take you down to the quarry then-"

"We need you here, Rick." Lori argued firmly, "What if Amy…?"

Shane's arm tensed suddenly and I glanced up at his features to see they had hardened in Lori's direction. It passed quickly though and he looked to Rick, "I got her, brother. I'll leave her with Miranda down there. She's watching the kids."

Miranda was Morales' wife. She was one of the few people I remembered from Glenn's impromptu introductions yesterday. I sighed in defeat as Rick nodded his thanks. There was no way I could argue my way out of this like I did yesterday. Partly, because I knew they were right.

"If you stand on my right, I can limp without-" As I began to explain the best way for me to get down to the quarry, Shane scoffed and scooped me up into his arms. I bit back a startled cry and my arms involuntarily wrapped around his neck. Shane began to walk down the sloping path that led through the campsite to the quarry, "Or this. This works too, I suppose."

"Don't wanna spend all day watching you drag your feet to the water."

"Technically, I _can't_ drag my feet. One of them bloody and bruised, remember?"

Shane snorted and it was quiet for a moment as my eyes traced over the abandoned tents. It was a stark difference to how it looked last time I took this path, and the sight of a few ripped and blood stained tents made me avert my eyes.

"How many…How many did we lose?"

"A _lot_." Shane replied bluntly. "We lost a lot."

I bit my lower lip, "I'm sorry."

The words didn't do shit, but it was all I knew how to say right now. Shane didn't reply and the rest of the trip was silent. It was clear to see that Shane was pissed about something. I wanted nothing to do with his anger though.

We broke through the forest line and he stepped onto the rocky shore. A dark haired woman was standing by the water watching as four kids hung out in the knee deep water. She turned at the sound of our approach, her shoulders tense. Shane spoke up first, "You and the kids doing ok?"

"We're fine." Miranda replied with a small nod.

Shane set me down beside Miranda and I gave him my sincere thanks before he turned and stalked back into the woods. I gave Miranda a small smile, "Hi, sorry if we startled you."

"No, don't worry about it. Are you ok?"

I pulled the boot and sock off my left foot, rolled my jeans up as much as I could, then shifted so both feet could sit in the shallow water. The cold liquid burned any wound it touched, but I left my foot in.

"I'm fine. My foot's just a little banged up."

Miranda motioned toward me, "Your shoulder too."

I glanced back to see the crusty blood stain and groaned. To be honest, I had forgotten all about that one. The same could be said of my head, as in the busted eyebrow I had cracked open again against Glenn's knee and my very sore chin. My face was still tender, I could feel it when I talked and moved my eyebrows, but it was nothing compared the hot pain from my foot.

"I'll live." I smiled and swished my foot through the water slowly, "Are you ok? You and your family, did…?"

I didn't know how to finish that question, but Miranda understood. She sighed, "My family is ok. They're all safe. I just can't believe we lost so many people, and poor Andrea."

"Yeah." I mumbled.

It was silent for a moment before she spoke up again, obviously trying to ease the tension, "So where are you from, Tori?"

I forced a chuckle, "Uh, good question." Her face fell in confusion and I shrugged, "I was in a car accident when Rick found me."

"I heard about that."

"Yeah, well, I hit my head pretty hard apparently. I can't remember anything."

"Nothing?"

"Nope." I sighed, "I mean, I have a rough idea. My ID card has an Alabama address and I know I went to Birmingham's med school."

Miranda's eyes widened, "UASOM?"

"Yeah, that's it." I nodded recognizing the acronym.

"My family is from originally from Mobile, but we have family in Birmingham." She replied, "I have a niece who's a business major at UAB."

I smiled, "Wow, small world, huh?"

Miranda was easy to talk to and she told me a little bit more about her family. How they had moved up to Atlanta about six months ago for her husband's work. During a lull in the conversation, she rose from her seat, "Can you keep an eye on the kids for me?"

The question seemed to come out of nowhere. My head turned to stare at her in surprise. Miranda shrugged, "I need to speak to my husband. I won't be long."

"Um, ok." I replied. Miranda looked out at the kids one last time before turning and leaving.

I shrugged and turned my attention to the kids. This was the first time I was really seeing Miranda's kids up close. They had two, a little boy and a little girl, they're names were Louis and Eliza if I remembered correctly. The boy was the older of the two it seemed. He had shaggy black hair and a tan complexion that looked further tanned by the hot Georgia sun. His dark brown eyes were big and round. His sister looked a lot like him, but her features were more petite and her hair was lighter and braided down her back.

Standing beside them were two kids I had seen and spoke to before. Sophia and Carl were standing side by side talking to the other two. Sophia's face was red though and her eyes were puffy from crying. Had she lost someone? I just saw Carol this morning, but I hadn't seen her father around anywhere.

"Hi, Tori." Carl chirped as he began to jog over. Water splashed onto my jeans from his large steps, but I couldn't care less. The other kids followed behind. "Are you ok?"

"I'm just peachy." I gave him a bright grin, "How about you kids?" My eyes focused on Sophia whose bottom lip began to quiver. Sophia sat down on the rocks a foot or so away from me with her knees tucked up to her chest. No tears left her eyes at this point, but she seemed close to it. "Sophia?"

"She lost her daddy." Eliza whispered to me sadly.

My suspicions were confirmed and dread filled me. I sighed, "Sweetie, I'm- I'm so sorry."

"He was mean." Sophia said softly, "He hit mommy and he… but…"

I had no idea what to say to that, or how to comfort the girl who saw me as a stranger, so I changed the subject in hopes of lifting her spirits. It seemed to work for the most part. The kids sat around me talking and slowly their spirits seemed to lift. Sophia didn't look quite so broken on the outside and I even got them laughing once. Louis spotted something moving in the water though, and him, his sister, and Carl rushed out to try and catch the water animal. I didn't tell them catching a fish with their bare hands was near impossible though. Instead, I nudged Sophia who had come closer to me, "Why don't you go help them?"

She cracked me a small smile before joining the others in the water. I barely knew these kids, yet it did my heart good to see them so carefree. I could sit and watch them play all day, but that wasn't what I came down here for. With a sigh, I pulled my bag off and dumped the contents out onto the smooth pebbles around me.

The expected right boot, first aid kit, canister of salt, and my knife fell out along with a black bag I had seen in there before, but what surprised me was the chunk of rock that fell out with a thud. It was about the size of my palm and was dark gray in color. Curiously, I picked it up and held it in my hand. The edges looked broken, like it was part of a bigger whole, and when I flipped it over I realized it was covered in strange symbols etched in a dark red color. The symbols were nothing like I had seen before. They looked even more foreign than the ones on my knife. I traced a finger over the dark red markings, the sunlight bounced off it making it flare red briefly, before the light was gone.

"The hell…?" I mumbled and rotated it a few more times in my hand before setting it down. Rather than going for the first aid kit, which was going to run out of supplies real damn fast at this rate, I grabbed the black bag in hopes that more medical supplies were hidden within. It was tied at the top, double knotted, but my long nails undid it quickly.

Inside the bag was at least twenty laminated identification cards. My eyes narrowed in confusion. Why the hell would I have this many ID cards on me? Did I steal them from people? I pulled out a handful and my face paled at the sight of a familiar face on each one.

These were all mine.

My face was on every single card in my hand. I reached in for the rest and found that the theme followed. Every damn ID card was my own, but they weren't all the same.

FBI Agent, State Trooper for California, Arkansas, and Florida, Mortician, Park Ranger for Montana and Oregon, Health Inspector for Ohio, and on and on it went. Every card was a new job, in a new area.

Even the names didn't match up.

Victoria Smith, Janice Birch, Taylee Jones, Aj Bradshaw, Sara Lee, Jessica Adams, Pauline Hasting, and fourteen others. All different. All matching to my face.

My hands were shaking to the point where I couldn't even keep the fake ID cards in my grip.

 _Who the fuck was I?_

Nobody had this many ID cards, this many fake identities, except criminals. Was I a criminal? It made no sense. My memory was shot, that was the truth, but there were things I did know. I knew at one point in my life I was planning to be a doctor. I had the training, the knowledge, buzzing around in my brain. My mind identified with the tag of ' _hunter'_ , whether that meant I enjoyed going after Bambi or not who the hell knew. I was protective. I could feel that in my bones, toward the people I had just met and the kids. I wanted to do my damn best for them. I wanted to protect them. It felt like it was my responsibility. Was that a trait of who I was to my core or was it just me feeling guilty, like I owed Rick and company for saving me?

The kids laughing snapped me back to where I was and I quickly began to shove the ID cards back into the black bag, to remain hidden from the world. According to this new information, I might not be Victoria 'Tori' Smith. Maybe it was my real name or maybe that driver's license I found with Rick was just another fake. Maybe I wasn't from Alabama and there was no one waiting for me.

Maybe I should've left in Atlanta on my own rather than coming back because it was possible that I was a criminal and the last thing these people needed was me around. I was nice and tame now, but what if my memory came back full swing and suddenly I wasn't the same anymore? What if I was dangerous? The cult looking knife was definitely potential evidence of that.

"Look what I found, Tori!" Sophia rushed up with her hands cupped together. She leaned forward to show off the snail she had sitting there.

I forced a bright smile and tried to compose myself, "That's wonderful, Sophia. Good job."

Sophia beamed at my words. She seemed so proud to get my simple words of approval. What if I hurt this little girl? What if my secrets caused her pain or worse? I watched as she ran back to the other kids. No. _No_. I wouldn't hurt her. I wouldn't hurt any of them. Regardless of who I used to be, I knew that I wouldn't- I _couldn't_ ever hurt any of them. I'd die first. That was another truth. It was seared to my soul.

I began to shove the items back into my bag. The last thing I needed was someone in camp stumbling across this secret of mine. Especially if that someone was Shane. With a steadying breath, I grabbed my first aid kit and got back to my initial goal. It didn't take me long to clean my foot out and re-wrap it up. However, it did take Miranda another twenty minutes or so before she came back. Not that I minded. The kids were angels. Loud angels who were giving any fish in the area a huge scare, but angels nonetheless.

"I'm so sorry it took so long." She sighed with a shake of her head. There was worry in her eyes, it was clear to see, but I didn't feel comfortable prying. Besides, who wasn't worried about something or another these days. Miranda sat down on the rocky shore beside me, her eyes focused on the kids. I followed her gaze and watched as Carl and Louis began to splash Sophia and Eliza. Both girls had no qualms with splashing back. "She's smiling."

"Hmm?" I questioned.

"Sophia." Miranda nodded her head toward them, "I was always worried for her. For her and her mother. Ed was…" She stopped herself from saying whatever it is she planned to say about Carol's apparently abusive husband before continuing, "This is just too much for any child to go through. _All_ of this… And now with Jim-"

"Jim?" I recognized the name. An image of the kind, lanky man wearing a navy coverall came to mind.

Miranda's eyebrows furrowed together and she sighed, "He was bitten last night. When I walked back into the main part of camp they were all fighting about what to do. Daryl tried to kill him on the spot."

 _Shit_. Jim was _bit_? I couldn't say I was overly surprised with the reaction though. My eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at myself. Everyone was up there dealing with this, dealing with the problems, and poor cripple me was down here tanning.

"I need to be there." I mumbled and began to pull a fresh sock over my newly bandaged foot.

"Tori?" Miranda tentatively spoke, but I didn't look up at her. I focused on getting my boot on without cringing, "I don't think that's a good idea. It's an uphill walk and I- I have to stay here to watch the kids… you'd have to go alone."

I smiled at her, "That's fine. Don't worry about me. My foot looks worse than it feels."

What would one small white lie hurt? I pulled my book bag on and stood up with a steadying breath. Miranda watched as I tested the waters by lightly pressing my injured foot against the ground. Since I used all I had left of the bandages, my foot was well cushioned. I should be ok to limp. I just had to resist the urge to sprint, which wouldn't be too hard.

"Be careful."

"You too." I replied and began to walk away. My pace was slow and for someone like me, who had next to no patience, it was God-awful. About halfway up the path I began to take larger steps in hopes to get there faster, but it just made my gait look that much stranger. I probably looked like a walker.

The sound of voices greeted me before the sight of the others did. It sounded like an argument, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. By time I could understand the words, I was at the edge of the clearing. Rick, Shane, Daryl, Lori, Morales, Dale, T-Dog, and Carol stood off to the side in a circle while Jim sat with his head hanging down to the left of the RV. Andrea was still off to the side, cradling her dead sister, but I couldn't look at her long. It hurt to see her like that.

"He's _sick_. A _sick_ man." Rick spat in frustration as Lori rubbed his arm, "We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

I tried to be as quiet as possible as I walked across the clearing toward where Jim sat. They didn't need another voice in the argument, but Jim could use some company. Daryl scoffed, "The line's pretty clear. _Zero_ tolerance for walkers or them to be."

"What if we could get him help? I heard the CDC was working on a cure." Rick again. Jim was staring at me now in confusion. I glanced over my shoulder to catch some eyes, but most looked away in nonchalance at my presence.

"I heard that too." Shane readjusted the cap on his head. Rick glanced at me and narrowed his eyes, but I just offered him a quick tight-lipped smile. Shane continued and pulled Rick's attention away, "Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."

"What if the CDC is still up and running?"

"Man, is that a stretch right there."

I ignored Shane and Rick's voices to focus on Jim. I offered him a smile and knelt down beside him, "Hey, Jim. How you feeling?"

"Not so hot." Jim shook his head. His skin seemed pale and the sweat from the Georgia sun made him only look worse. Without hesitation, I felt his forehead and realized all that sweat might not be caused by the hot sun alone. Jim was burning up. "You shouldn't be so close."

His voice was shaky and low. I shook my head at him, "Hey, I'm supposed to be this camp's doctor, right? What kind of doctor would I be if I left you hanging?"

"A smart one." Jim mumbled and closed his eyes. His shoulders slunk in exhaustion and I let my smile fall away in worry. My eyes drifted down to his shirt where one wet bloodstain could be seen.

"You go lookin' for aspirin, do what you need to do." Daryl's voice made me glance over my shoulder again. I had gotten used to hearing Shane and Rick's voice go back and forth. His stance had changed, he was on the balls of his feet and his hand was tightening around the pick axe he held. I swallowed the lump in my throat as he began to back pedal towards us, "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem." He spun around, eyes locked on mine and pick axe raised, "Move, girl!"

I did move. I couldn't get up in time, but I threw myself forward so I was on my knees in front of Jim, arms outstretched. Rick was a hell of a lot faster than me though. He had his handgun out again, with the barrel pressed against the back of Daryl's head.

" _Hey_!" Rick barked and Daryl froze, his face twisted in annoyance, "We don't kill the living."

Shane walked over and he offered me his hand with a nod. I took it and he pulled me up quickly. He turned so he now stood between Daryl and Jim and I. He had both hands on his shotgun, but it was held in front of him.

Daryl turned around and lowered the pick axe. Rick's weapon was still eye level with him, "Funny, comin' from a man who just put a _gun_ to my head."

"We may disagree on some things", Shane spoke and Daryl glanced back at him, "Not on this. You put it down. Go on."

Daryl threw the pick axe aside and stalked off. Shane and Rick shared a nod before Shane turned around and helped Jim up. He began to lead him around the RV by the arm.

"You come too, Victoria." Rick said, offering his arm. I took it and he helped me limp behind Shane and Jim who were entering the RV. "You should be by the water. Resting."

"I'm not good at sitting idle, Rick." I replied. "Besides, I can help. I _want_ to help."

Rick gave me a look, but didn't argue. He helped me into the RV and we went to the back where Jim was sitting on the edge of the bed. Shane held up a first kit in my direction. I smiled and took it from him with a quick thanks before sitting down beside Jim, "Do you need help taking your shirt off, Jim?"

Jim shook his head and slowly began to take off his hat and shirt. His movements were slow and pained, I could see it on his face. My eyes darted over to Rick and Shane who stood a few feet away quietly continuing their argument from earlier.

"Say it." Rick snapped.

"Okay." Shane replied. He glanced down at his feet and shifted his hands on his weapon before nodding and looking back up at his friend, "I'm thinking if you'd of stayed here, if you'd have looked after your own—Instead you took off, you took half our manpower with you." He paused briefly, "I'm thinking maybe our losses wouldn't have been so bad."

"If we hadn't gone off and brought those guns back when we did, I think our losses would've been a whole lot worse." Rick scoffed and motioned toward outside the RV with his arm, "Maybe the entire camp."

I tore my gaze away and focused back on Jim who had gotten his shirt off. For two best friends who had been reunited after a tragedy, they sure fought a lot. The air always seemed tense between the two.

"This is going to sting." I mumbled and went about cleaning Jim's wound. In my eyes, what they were arguing about now was pointless. What was done was done. Nothing could change what happened so why try and push blame somewhere?

"Victoria." I paused in my actions as Rick came over. Shane was gone now. "Shane and I are going out to finish with the…with the graves. The funeral-"

"I'm going to stick with Jim." I interrupted. Jim began to argue, but I shook my head, "Someone should and I… Like you said, I shouldn't be walking around."

Rick didn't buy my words, but he nodded regardless. His eyes shifted to Jim, "We're gonna fix this."

Those were the words left hanging in the air as Rick left. Based on the look on Jim's face, I wasn't the only one who didn't agree. I strongly felt we shouldn't put a pick axe in Jim's head right now, but there wasn't much I could do for the man. I had no medicine, and even if I did have some form of antibiotic what would it really do? Obviously, this illness had bested the human race's medical advancements.

"Thank you." Jim whispered as I finished wrapping gauze around his room. He shifted back to lean against the RV's wall. I stayed where I was, packing up Dale's first aid kit. "You can go, if you want. To the funeral. I'll just stay here."

I gave him a small smile that he paid little attention to, "It's ok. I'm…I'm not a big fan of funerals."

* * *

 _'Let us go with you. I know you don't want to do this alone, you-'_

 _'I_ have _to do this alone.'_

 _'You_ hate _funerals. You_ hate _good-byes, just let us-'_

 _'I need to do this alone. I have no choice.'_

The sound of moaning made my eyes snap open. The unfamiliar voices from a fading dream slowly disappeared. Disoriented, I sat up and glanced around. Jim was leaning against the RV wall with his eyes shut and he was moaning to himself in distress. I must have dozed off.

"Jim." I cleared my throat and got closer to him. "Jim-"

"No, no, not this. Not this." His eyes opened, but he wasn't fully there. His gaze darted around in fear, "Please, no. Not this."

I put my hand against his hot forehead and tried to calm him down, "Jim, you're safe. You're here and you're safe."

"They're dying. They're dying again." His voice broke and he began to roughly cough. I couldn't help but flinch back a bit. "It's eating her. It's eating them and-and-and I'm running." He shook his head and moaned, "I deserve this. I deserve this."

I tried to calm him back down, "Jim-"

His eyes snapped to mine, "My family. They ate my family and I just ran. I left them."

"Try to get some rest." I replied. The sound of movement made me snap around, but it was just Carol stepping into the RV with a large pot. She walked over with a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Hey, Carol."

"I brought some water. I thought it would help."

"Thank you so much." I stood up and she came over. Carol sat close to Jim and used a cup to gather some of the water for him to drink. Then she began to use a rag to dip into the water and clean him up. Jim closed his eyes, mumbling thanks, as she continued. I cleared my throat, "Are the- Is the funeral over?"

"Yes. It ended a few minutes ago."

Now that she mentioned it, I could hear the sound of voices faintly outside the RV. I nodded once, to myself, and sighed, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about…about your husband."

"Thank you." She replied, it was silently awkward for a few minutes before she spoke again, "You can go and take a break if you'd like.

I nodded again, "Yeah, thanks. Just…Let me know if he gets worse. If you need me."

She didn't reply and I left the RV. The clearing was slowly filling again. My eyes drifted over to where Andrea was curled up in a camping chair by the fire. She was curled up and asleep. I tried not to look over to where Amy's body used to be, where only blood in the dirt remained. They must have taken care of it, she must have been buried. I joined her and the others who began to gather around the fire.

"Hey!" I stopped and looked over my shoulder to see Glenn jog up. His eyes darted to my feet before he offered his arm, "Need some help?"

"Thanks, Glenn." I smiled and he helped me limp over to a vacant seat. He took the seat next to me with a sigh. I nudged his leg with my own, "That was good of you this morning. Brave. To stand up to the others…about burying our own, I mean."

Glenn returned the smile, but it was short lived, "They deserved that much."

The two of us talked quietly to each other as more people began to gather around the small fire pit. Glenn told me about his life before, about his family in Michigan. He was the middle child with two sisters, but moved to Atlanta a few years back. Glenn had talked to them one last time before communication went down, but he didn't know what happened to them since. He asked if there was anything I could remember about my family, but all I had to give was blanks. I couldn't remember my parents, if I had siblings… I wondered which was worse. To not remember anything or to remember but not know their fate.

Time passed and eventually it seemed what remained of the camp was gathered around the pit, all except Jim. Miranda caught my eye, she sat across from me with her family, and offered me a smile that I returned.

Shane grabbed everyone's attention coming over. He put his foot up on a lag and leaned against his knee, "I've been thinking about Rick's plan. There are no guarantees either way. I'll be the first one to admit that. I've known this man a long time", Shane stopped looking around at everyone and focused his eyes on Rick who was sitting across from him, "I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So…those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?"

There were some small nods, but no one spoke up. Shane nodded once more and walked away. The group began to slowly disperse as well.

"You're not still thinking of leaving are you?" Glenn asked quietly.

I glanced over at him to see worry on his features. With a smile, I reached over and clapped him on the shoulder, "I think you're stuck with me now, Glenn."

He chuckled and stood up, "Good. Need help going anywhere?"

"I think I might just chill out here a while longer." I shrugged, "My foot's starting to throb."

Glenn nodded and walked away to help some others start to pack things up. Most of the tents and stuff would have to be packed tomorrow morning, but a good bit could be put away now.

The light of the day disappeared quickly and soon a light dinner of random canned foods was being passed around. I had finished what was given to me, and planned to head to the jeep to sleep again. There was no point in trying to set up a spare tent now considering we were leaving soon.

"Tori?" My eyes widened at Morales' voice. He stood to my left. This was the first time I was actually having a conversation with him.

"Um, hi. What's up?"

Morales offered me his hand and helped me up, "Miranda and I were hoping to talk to you. Do you mind?"

"Not at all." I shook my head, "Lead the way."

He led me to a family sized tent, which wasn't to far from the clearing. As we arrived, Miranda stepped out quietly. She nodded at her husband, "They just fell asleep."

"Good."

I cleared my throat, "So, is everything alright? Everyone?"

"Yes, it isn't anything like that." Miranda replied, "You said you remember going to school in Birmingham so you must have friends or family there, right?"

"I guess, yeah. That'd make sense."

Miranda shared a look with her husband before focusing back on me, "We're not going to the CDC." My eyes widened, but she continued, "We're going to travel down to Birmingham. It's only two and a half hours from here and we want to see if our family is ok. You're welcome to join us."

"Really?"

Morales nodded, "Of course."

I bit my lip in thought. It was a logical choice. If I wanted answers about myself then going to Birmingham made the most sense. Without a doubt, I had spent time there. I had a potential address there. I cleared my throat, "Do you mind if I take the night to think it over?"

"Of course not. Just let us know in the morning." Miranda replied with a comforting hand on my shoulder.

I gave them one last nod before limping away. Birmingham had potential answers, but with all the IDs I found in my bag today I questioned the validity of the one I had in my wallet. It made me wonder if there were actual answers for me in Birmingham, but the thought faded fast. There had to be. Unlike the other random identities, this one had pictures to go with it. There was a physical photo of me in front of a UAB sign alongside Marie and some other dude. Plus, though I remembered next to nothing, I obviously had medical knowledge bouncing around my brain. I had been a UASOM student.

If I went with them though, would I like the answers I found? Didn't I owe myself that much, regardless? The other choice, going to the CDC, was tempting too. If Rick's instinct was right and there were people there, it meant there could be big answers. Answers not about who I used to be, but answers about what the hell was going on in the world. That was information I wanted to know. Plus, even though it had only been a day and a half, I had made friends. There were people here, good people, that I didn't want to depart from.

I heaved a sigh and prayed that a night of sleep would make the decision easier. As I reached the jeep, I realized Shane was there digging around in the trunk. He noticed me and nodded, "Can I help you?"

"Oh." I rubbed the back of my neck, "I was gonna- I was gonna sleep in the jeep. Like I did last night. Is it yours? I should've asked, sorry."

Shane went back to what he was doing with a shake of his head, "You aint sleeping in the jeep." I narrowed my eyes in a glare. I slept here last night and it was no big deal, why- "The entire back's open. No protection if a walker stumbles into camp and you're knocked out."

I blinked in surprise, "Oh. That- That makes sense."

"Shouldn't have done it last night either."

"Last night I just sort of passed out. Wasn't really thinking."

"Come on." He finished what he was doing and led me back towards camp. He stopped at the bright red Camaro and opened the back seat door, "Here."

I tossed my bag in then sat down, "Thanks, Shane."

He grunted in response then left. I watched him go for a moment before scooting in and shutting the door. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep.

* * *

The camp was buzzing with activity the next morning as everyone packed up the tents and the rest of the belongings. Jim was doing worse than before, which was to be expected, but it still sucked. I knew wrapping up his wound wasn't going to magically make things better, but it still hurt to see him so broken and sick. Unlike his wound, mine had gotten a bit better. My foot didn't hurt as much today and the wounds had begun to heal over again. As long as I didn't go sprinting through the woods, I should be fine. The lack of pain from my foot through reminded me that there was an open wound on my shoulder. It stung, and was sore, but considering I didn't look like Jim I figured that meant it was caused from something that wasn't a walker. I had that to be thankful for.

"Miranda!" I called out as I finally spotted her next to Carol packing away some clothes. She met me halfway and I shook my head, "Thank you. Thank you so much for the offer, but…but I think I'm going to stay with the group."

"I understand." She nodded, "But can I ask why?"

I paused and tried to find my words. It had been clear to me when I woke up this morning and saw everyone packing things up. It just…clicked. I shrugged, "I trust Rick's instinct. I want to see what the CDC has for us. Maybe find some answers there. I think…I think those answers are more important to me than the ones about my past."

"Fair enough." She stepped forward and pulled me into a hug, "Be careful."

I chuckled at the familiar words, "Yeah, you guys too."

Everything had been packed about thirty minutes later. The group had gathered by the cars for one last meeting of sorts. Rick and Shane took lead, announcing what radio frequency they'd be talking on and what to do in case of an emergency. After they said their piece Morales broke their own news. Rick glanced my way when Miranda talked about family in Birmingham, but focused on talking to Morales and Miranda. Making sure they were positive about their decision. The family couldn't be swayed and the ex-police officers gave Morales a gun and box of bullets.

Goodbyes were being said and I glanced away when Sophia and Eliza began to cry and hug each other. Rick, in his light brown police uniform, walked over to me with a nod.

"Hey, Rick. Morning." I greeted.

"Morning." He replied. "Morales talked to me earlier. Mentioned he was planning this. Said him and his wife asked you along."

My eyes widened, "You knew? About them and about me?"

He nodded, "Yeah. I steered clear of you this morning because of it." Rick chuckled, "I didn't want to sway your decision like I did when we left for Atlanta. I wanted _you_ to choose."

"Well I did." I smiled, "I want to know what the CDC knows. If they know anything." I crossed my arms, "I guess that means you're stuck with me a while longer."

Rick chuckled, "I guess so."

"Let's head out." Shane called and people began to move.

"Need a ride?"

I pointed toward Dale who stood outside the RV with Glenn, "I was gonna keep an eye on Jim. Why? What'd you have in mind?"

"Shane's got a spare seat." Rick nodded toward the jeep Shane was walking towards. I appreciated Rick looking after me, but I didn't want to ride with Shane. He seemed all right enough in my book, but boy did I not want to play twenty questions with him. Not while I had a big, sketchy secret in my book bag.

"Thanks, but no thanks." I replied, "Later, Rick."

I walked off and began to head toward the RV, but paused at the truck Daryl was standing by. He was throwing gear into the single bench pick up, but my attention was focused on the older styled motorcycle strapped down into the bed. I drifted from my path to get a closer look. Curiously, I lifted my hand to brush off a leaf that was lying on the black leather, but a different hand beat me to it.

"Hands off." Daryl snapped and beat my hand away.

I crossed my arms with a grin, "Sorry. It's a nice motorcycle."

"It was Merle's." Daryl replied and stepped away to set his crossbow in the passenger seat. He glanced back over and I watched as he shifted his weight awkwardly. He nodded once, "You ride?"

"Not that I remember." I joked with a chuckle.

Daryl shook his head and scoffed, entirely unamused with my reply, "Don't know why you joke so much 'bout not bein' able to remember anythin'. It ain't funny."

"No, I guess not." I shrugged. "But it's really all I _can_ do. I'd rather joke at my own expense than break down and cry." Daryl's annoyance had slightly lessened. I let my smile return, "I can't remember my past and that's really depressing when I sit and think about it, but I'm not gonna walk around and mope. It's not my style."

The words had just poured out of me, but it felt good to say them aloud. It was the truth after all. Not knowing anything about my family or past really was just awful. Seeing clues that just added up to a potentially sketchy past was even worse, but there was no point in whining about it. Everyone had it rough right now. Besides, it felt natural to laugh it off. I figured that was a better coping method than anything else I could pick up at the moment.

"Guess I get that." Daryl replied.

I smirked, "So you're gonna give me a ride on that bad boy, right?" Daryl let out a scoff and walked around the truck to get in. I chuckled, "I'll take that as a maybe!"

Dale gave me a smile as I stepped into the RV. It was a bit crowded, but I made my way back to Jim who was obviously suffering. I sighed to myself. This was going to be a long trip.

* * *

Unfortunately, I had been wrong. The trip hadn't been long at all. After about ten minutes of driving we were forced to stop because the RV was having issues. Car knowledge wasn't my forte, and I didn't understand what Dale was talking about but apparently this was a problem the RV struggled with often.

T-Dog and Shane had left to gather supplies from a gas station we had passed, but by time they got back and fixed the RV Jim was significantly worse. Jacqui, the kind African American woman I had only spoken to once before, sat beside me with a worried frown as she offered him some more water. I stood up and left the RV in hopes to find a familiar looking ex-officer. Rick was off to the side talking to his wife.

"Rick." I called out and everyone in the vicinity seemed to look over at me. I sighed, "Jim is… it's gotten worse. His fever has spiked and… I'm not sure how longer he's gonna last."

Rick sighed and covered his eyes with his hands in an exhausted motion. He nodded once, "I'll talk to him."

I watched him walk past me to the RV's door, but before I could follow him in Lori set her hand on my shoulder and pulled me back. My eyes narrowed at her in question, but she just clicked her tongue sadly, "Honey, you should let my husband talk to him alone. Give them some time."

With a nod, she stepped away and I just continued to stare at the back of her head. There was so much to argue against with her, but I was too tired to do so. Watching Jim deteriorate right before my eyes had really taken its toll on me. Obviously, Jim had the short end of that stick, but not being able to do anything for him except console and offer water had truly been awful.

A couple more minutes passed, but it seemed Rick had no luck with his conversation. Jim had decided to throw in the towel. He was done with riding in the back of the RV in pain waiting for relief that wasn't going to come. Rick and Shane helped him out of the RV and they leaned him against a tree out by the side of the road. One by one, people stepped up to say their heartfelt goodbyes. I didn't know Jim very well or for very long and I wasn't entirely sure what to say when it came to be my turn. With a sigh, I reached out to squeeze his hand and I offered him a few more consoling words before walking away with a heavy heart.

It wasn't my fault. I knew it wasn't. Jim wasn't dying because of me, yet I still felt guilt at seeing him sitting against that tree on his own. It just felt wrong that I couldn't do anything more for him.

People began to move about, getting back into cars, so we could get back on the road to Atlanta. I glanced once at the RV before whipping around and jogging after Daryl who was walking toward the end of the line where his truck was.

"Daryl!" I called and he turned around skeptically. He didn't speak, but instead stared at me expectantly. I cleared my throat, "Hey, uh, can I ride with you the rest of the way?"

His eyes widened slightly in alarm, "What? No."

"Oh, come on. Please?"

Daryl scoffed, "Ain't you cozy in the RV?"

"It's way too crowded in there and you have a spare seat." I replied. Rather than let him turn me down again, I continued, "Please, Daryl? I'll be quiet and you won't even know I'm there."

He hesitated for another moment before letting out a quick sigh, "Fine."

Daryl turned and continued toward his truck. I bounced in place once before speaking up, "Let me just tell Dale and them that I'm going with you! Don't leave without me!"

He threw his hand up in acknowledgement without even glancing back at me. I grinned and jogged back to the RV where Glenn was standing outside the door. He forced a smile in my direction. Glenn was obviously still distressed about the Jim thing, "Hey, you ready?"

"Actually, I'm gonna ride with Daryl. Can you tell Dale?"

Glenn's eyes widened, "Wait, Daryl? Like, Daryl _Dixon_?"

"No, the other Daryl." I joked.

Glenn remained wary, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" I clapped him on the shoulder with a small smile before turning back the way I came.

On my way to the truck, I had to pass the car Rick was driving. He had been leaning against the front talking to Lori, but at my approach he glanced over with a small smile.

"Everything alright?" Rick questioned.

"Yeah, I'm just riding with Daryl the rest of the way."

Rick looked equally as surprised as Glenn and just as skeptical. He glanced back towards the truck before looking at me again, "Alright, any particular reason?"

"The RV is too crowded. Besides, Daryl is riding alone. Everyone needs a little company."

Rick nodded once then shrugged before offering the same line he did back at camp, "Shane's got a spare seat too."

"Thanks, but Daryl's my new BFF, didn't you know?" I joked. Luckily, I was far enough away where Daryl wouldn't hear the comment and give me shit for it. I knew the last thing the redneck would consider me was a best friend.

Lori wrapped her arm around Rick's waist, "I think it's a good idea."

I nodded once, still a little peeved at her for a reason I couldn't fully fathom, and gave them both a quick wave before walking away. Daryl was sitting on the driver's side with a cigarette hanging from his lips and his left arm hanging out the window. As I got to the door I could see he cleared out the passenger seat for me.

"Thanks again, Daryl."

"Uh huh."

I settled into the seat after putting my seat belt on, and slowly the line of cars began to move. The urge to look out my window at Jim one last time hit me hard, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Rather, I closed my eyes tightly and took a steadying breath.

"So why are you ridin' with me?"

My eyes snapped open and I glanced over at Daryl who didn't look at me in return. He kept his own gaze focused on the road. His shoulders weren't very tense, but he had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

I liked Daryl. I didn't think he was all that bad. Maybe a little rough around the edges, but he had done me no harm. In fact, he saved me. Multiple times now. Hopefully, my presence in his truck wasn't bothering him that much. Not only did I want to avoid the full RV, but I really did just want to keep him company.

"Why not?" I replied with the friendliest smile I could muster, "Like I told Rick, you were all alone and everyone could use some company."

"I don't." He argued gruffly.

I let out a small chuckle, "Sure, Daryl. _Whatever_ you say." He shot me a light glare out of the corner of his eye. Without missing a beat, I continued, "You know, I never thanked you for the whole Atlanta retirement home slash kidnapping ploy thing."

"Thank me for what?"

"For coming back for Glenn and I with Rick and T-Dog." I answered with a shrug, "I appreciate it. Really."

Daryl scoffed, "I would've left the two of you if it were up to me."

" _Sure_." I replied in a doubtful tone. Maybe I would've believed his comment after that first encounter with him in the woods, but now? Not so much. I saw the look in his eyes when Glenn got yanked away and when I was being used as a human shield.

Daryl glanced over again and repeated his words with emphasis, "I would've."

"Yeah, ok."

" _Woman_."

I chuckled again with a grin as Daryl glanced at me warily. The cab grew quiet again as we continued down the road to Atlanta. The silence wasn't awkward, it was comfortable. My eyes glanced at Daryl's hand around the steering wheel to see it had relaxed to some degree. I silently cheered the small victory and turned to stare out the window at the Georgia woods.

* * *

Due to some road blocks, detours, and a number of more RV breakdowns, it took longer than initially planned to get to the CDC. By time we got in vicinity, the sun was low in the sky. Maybe thirty minutes or so from sundown. The woods outside my window had long ago disappeared and now I was stuck staring at the dead buildings and streets of Atlanta. The sight of the abandoned, dead city made me feel sick and there was an eerie vibe that seemed to radiate off the city itself.

The area around the large, multi story CDC building was a wasteland. There were sand bag barriers scattered around, no longer serving a purpose, with debris and trash all over. Worse than the garbage, were the dead bodies lying about in various degrees of decay. They were everywhere, nearing the hundreds in number at least.

The convoy of cars came to a stop and Daryl threw the truck into park just as my eyes landed on a tan tank, much like the one in the city I had seen with Rick. Closer to the actual building were military trucks and jeeps.

"Come on." Daryl said.

He jumped out of the truck and I followed suite. As soon as I stepped out of the truck, the smell of death hit me like truck. I coughed, trying to get the stench of decay out from my lungs, to no avail. I wasn't the only one doing so either. The smell of the dead was everywhere these days, but it was especially potent here.

The entire group was now making our way across the deserted wasteland toward the CDC. Daryl walked beside me, his crossbow raised, and I had enough common sense to pull out my knife just in case.

Rick and Shane were leading the group, and we followed them toward the front of the building where it looked like the doors were located. However, each section of the wall where a door should be was replaced with a metal shutter and above each metal shutter was a camera.

Shane rushed forward to try and lift the shutters using his back for support while Rick toyed with a control panel off to the side with no luck.

"There's nobody here." T-Dog said, worry dripped from his words as panic began to rise up in the group around me. I glanced around trying to look for some kind of solution.

Rick spun around, "Then why are these shutters down?"

My eyes caught movement, and when I looked in that direction a walker greeted me. It was about ten yards away, dressed in a military uniform, and it was heading straight for us.

"Walkers!" Daryl barked and I glanced around to see more of the same. The kids began to let out cries of fear. Daryl stormed forward to Rick, "You led us into a _graveyard_!"

Shane sidestepped between the two men, "He made a call."

"It was the _wrong_ damn call!"

"Just shut up. You hear me?" Shane pointed at him threatingly, " _Shut up_!"

Someone was messing with the shutters again, I could hear it, and Daryl fired his crossbow toward a walker. I couldn't turn to watch what was happening though because my eyes were glued out in the distance across the concrete courtyard that sat in front of the CDC. About a hundred yards away was a figure. At first, I thought it was a walker, but this figure was different.

It didn't limp or stumble, but walked confidently.

It had no disfigurements because it was made of solid shadow.

It looked like a shadow.

The sound of arguments and panicked cries around me began to fade away. I knew the group was still there, but all I could hear was a ringing in my ears. The figure was coming closer and I felt like I was in a trance of some sort. Did anybody else see it? Did anybody else feel the buzz I could feel vibrating in my chest?

 _'Snap out of it. You need to focus. Do you hear me? Focus.'_

The involuntary thought filled my head with clarity as sound returned with a snap. Shane was shouting now, "Everybody get to the cars!"

I had missed something .I had missed an entire chunk of something. The walkers had grown in number and were closer than before. Everyone was yelling now. Shane wrapped his hand around my wrist and forced me forward with the rest of the group that was slowly pulling away from the building.

Rick didn't budge though.

"It moved." Rick declared. "The camera, it moved."

Everyone paused at his words, eyes shot to the camera in hopes to see the same. All I could see though was the same, still white camera.

Dale shook his head, "You imagined it."

"It moved." Rick argued loudly, "It _moved_!"

Shane passed me to head back to Rick, "Rick, it's dead, man. It's an automated device."

The group continued to slowly inch toward the cars, but I was frozen in place. Was it too much to hope that someone was in there like Rick said? Did we even still have time to try and find out? The walkers were getting closer, the sun was almost gone. We were out of time. Shane made the decision himself as he grabbed Rick roughly and tried to drag him back, but Rick broke free and began to pound on the shutter again.

"I know you're in there! I _know_ you can hear me! Please, we're _desperate_!" Rick cried. Shane motioned everyone to head to the cars again, but I remained rooted. "We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left!"

Lori stepped in front of her husband and tried to push him back, "Rick, there's _nobody_ here."

"If you don't let us in you're _killing_ us!" Rick roared in desperation as Shane came back over and successfully began to pull him away from the doors, " _You're killing us!"_

My sight of Rick was blocked when Daryl stepped in front of me and began to push me back as well. The steps I took weren't forced though, and I slowly began to allow him to pull me away.

Suddenly, the metal shutter in front of Rick and Shane lifted open releasing a bright light across the area. It was blinding and I was forced to briefly cover my eyes in response. Everyone was frozen in shock and nobody moved for a few seconds. I half expected the light to fade away. For it to have been just some hopeful hallucination.

The light did begin to die down, but the open door remained. The sight of the open door seemed to snap everyone to their senses and the group began to move forward. Everyone cautiously stepped through the into a lobby like area. It was dimly lit inside, but the fact that there were electric lights at all seemed incredible. The ceiling was high, creating an open floor plan, with linoleum floors and a modern feel. More than the architectural design, the area was clean. No trash or broken debris littered the floor. There were no dead bodies lying about. There was no destruction in here. It was untouched.

"Hello?" Rick called out. The reply to his greeting was the sound of a gun being cocked back, which resulted in everyone holding a gun to spin and aim towards the noise.

" _Anybody infected_!?"

The man asking was partly hidden by the shadows, but I could make out his plain white shirt, sweatpants, and the large rifle in his hands.

Rick spoke up, "One of our group was. He didn't make it."

"Why are you here? What do you want?"

Rick glanced back at all of us. His eyes darted about before he glanced forward again, "A _chance_."

"That's asking a lot these days." The man stepped out into a ray of the dim lighting. He looked to be in his late forties, with short blond hair and dark, tired blue eyes.

"I know." Rick nodded.

There was an awkward, tense pause as the man gazed over each face of our makeshift group. He gave a slight nod of his head, "You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission."

"We can do that." Rick agreed quickly and with ease. It seemed like an easy price to pay for protection and safety.

The man lowered his weapon and briskly walked forward, "You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes it stays closed."

Rick, Shane, Daryl, and Glenn ran out to the cars without hesitation to grab the needed supplies while Dale and T-Dog held open the doors and kept watch. I slowly walked toward the open doors, next to where T-Dog stood, and peeked out. It was darker now and the figure I had seen earlier was no longer there. What the hell had that thing been? Had I actually seen it at all?

I shook my head lightly and rubbed at my eyes. It must have been some trick of the eyes. A side effect of too little food and too much exertion on top of the still lingering consequences of blood loss.

"Watch out, Tori." T-Dog warned as he set a hand on my shoulder to pull me back. I gave him a smile and backpedaled back into the lobby as the four men ran back in with various bags. Daryl not only had his own bag, but he had grabbed mine as well.

"Vi, seal the main entrance and kill the power up here." The man said. I glanced over my shoulder to see him speaking into a comm system against the wall. The shutters closed slowly, and I couldn't help but stare at a walker that stumbled towards the moving metal door. The moment the shutter was fully sealed I let out a breath and I hadn't realized I had been holding.

I turned back around just in time to see Rick walk to the man and hold out a hand, "Rick Grimes."

The man glanced at the hand once before quickly shaking it, "Dr. Edwin Jenner." He glanced at the group, "All of you can follow me."

The group followed Jenner off to the side and where an elevator sat. I waited until Daryl was beside me and he didn't hesitate to hand me my bag.

"Thanks." I grinned in appreciation and he let out a grunt in response.

Everyone stepped into the elevator, which was large enough to hold the group, but was too small for anyone to have an adequate amount of personal space. My back was pressed against Glenn's side and I had to pull my arm back some so it wasn't in Sophia's face. The elevators doors closed and it began to move.

"Doctors always go around packing heat like that?" Daryl broke the silence and motioned to Jenner's weapon.

"There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself." Jenner's eyes glanced over the group, taking everyone in, "But you look harmless enough." Jenner's eyes darted down to Carl who stood next to him, "Except you. I'll have to keep my eye on you."

Carl's lips twitched upwards in a smile and I couldn't help but smile in response too. We were safe right now. We were safe enough to crack jokes and not worry about walkers jumping out from behind any corners. Hell, we were in a working elevator. I thought I was going to have to say goodbye to those in this new world.

The rest of the elevator ride was silent and the doors opened up to a dim hallway with white walls. As we all stepped out my eyes took in the sight of the plain, gray doors about ten feet apart going all down the hall.

"Vi, bring up the lights in the big room."

Jenner led us down the hall into a large room that was both tall ceiling wise and wide width wise. There was a circle of lights above a platform in the middle of the room. On said platform were machines with computer monitors and the wall off to the right was a large computer screen itself.

"Welcome to Zone 5."

The room apart from us was empty and quiet. There were no walkers shambling around, but he building seemed dead in its own unique way. Rick glanced around, "Where is everybody? The other doctors, the staff?"

"I'm it." Jenner stepped onto the platform, "It's just me here."

"What about the person you were talking to?" I asked curiously.

Andrea nodded, "Yeah. Vi?"

Jenner shrugged, "Vi. Say hello to our guests. Tell them, welcome."

Seconds passed before a robotic female voice echoed through a sort of overhead speaker system, "Hello guests. Welcome."

Jenner's apologetic gaze drifted over the group as he let out a soft sigh, "I'm all that's left. I'm sorry."

After finding out about Jenner being the only reaming staff member, he led us back down the same hallway, but turned in a different direction. We were now in a small classroom that had stadium styled desks and a chalkboard at the front of the room against the wall behind a larger tabletop desk.

Jenner had left briefly to grab a kit of some sort, and as soon as he came back he began to take vials of everyone's blood. The process itself wasn't long, and it was nice to just sit there in the air-conditioned room talking with ease. Glenn and I had been sitting beside each other, conversing, when it finally became my turn for the blood taking. It was only by chance that I had ended up being last.

I moved to the front where he was waiting. As he began to prep my left arm, I spoke up, "I'm grateful that you let us is, we all are I'm sure, but… why this? Why the blood samples? From what I've seen the infection hits fast. IF any of us had it we'd be showing symptoms and signs."

Jenner cleared his throat before sticking my arm with the needle, "I've already broken every rule in the book just letting you in here. It's nice to at least be thorough." The answer satisfied my curiosity enough that I didn't press further. Maybe he was just a man of habit. He filled one vial, pulled out the needle, then pressed a Band-Aid against the puncture. "All done."

"Thanks." I replied with a small smile. I stood up from my seat and the world suddenly began to start spinning. Everything began to tilt and I didn't even realize I was falling over until Glenn had me in his arms.

Jenner stepped forward, "You alright?"

The world started to come back into focus and it was then that I realized all eyes seemed to be on me. My face burned and I shook my head, "I'm fine. Sorry."

"She lost a lot of blood over the past couple days." Rick spoke up.

Andrea added, "Plus, none of us have had much to eat or drink either."

Jenner paused before speaking again, "I think I can fix that. Follow me."

I sat back down in the seat I had been in and Glenn hovered by me. His eyebrows furrowed in worry, "Are you sure you're ok?"

The rest of the group was slowly leaving to follow Jenner. I nodded, "I'm seriously fine. Go on ahead, I'll catch up."

Glenn seemed hesitant to go, but he noticed Rick lingering behind as well. He gave us both a nod before scooping up his bag, plus my own, and walking out. I closed my eyes with a sigh.

I could hear Rick come closer and I spoke up before he could ask me about my health, "I'm just dizzy, Rick. I think I'll survive."

"How's your foot?"

I opened my eyes to see his worried light blue eyes focused on me. My own eyes darted to my boot, "It's ok. Sore still, obviously, but I had no problem walking on it earlier. Well, limping, but still."

"Alright. Come on." Rick offered his hand to help me up and I didn't hesitate to take it, "Let's get you some food, huh?"

"Don't have to tell me twice, Grimes." I replied.

The two of us left the room to go in the direction Jenner had gone in. It wasn't hard to figure out where they went. All we had to do was listen for the group's loud, excited voices. My limping pace was slow, but Rick stayed by my side rather than walking ahead.

We entered into a cafeteria looking room and to the left was a full kitchen with counters and appliances. Jenner was quietly leaning against one of the counters watching as our group moved around the kitchen laughing and preparing food. As we stepped closer the smell of something delicious and familiar hit me.

"Is that spaghetti?" I asked with a grin.

Glenn laughed and lifted his hands to show a large, empty bottle of brand name marinara sauce. Rick ushered me toward a close table where Carl and Sophia sat along with Dale, Shane, T-Dog, and Daryl.

I tried to stand back up, "I can help."

"Just rest." Rick chuckled, "I think we can handle dinner preparation without you."

Rick walked into the kitchen and I watched him go with a smile. My eyes glanced over the scene and content settled in my chest. Everything felt warm and fuzzy right now. It was like I didn't even have to worry about the world crumbling outside. I would happily spend the rest of my life in this single moment with people I barely knew, yet cared so much about already.

Coming to the CDC had been the right choice.

* * *

Sam stared out the window as Georgia scenery flew by. Dean was behind the wheel of the black Impala, and he was talking about something but Sam's mind was a million miles away. His life had always felt like one train wreck after another. That was almost expected though. His mother had been murdered by a demon and he had been raised by a vengeful father who was determined to hunt down demons and every other kind of monster that went bump in the night. With that kind of upbringing, the kind where vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and other supernatural beings made normal appearances, saying his life was one train wreck after another was almost an understatement.

Now though, his life didn't feel like some sort of carnal wreckage. It felt like he had reached the end of the tracks. There was no monster to kill and civilian to save because a new monster had taken over the world. Of all the ways the world could've ended… Him and his brother had saved the world from the devil himself years ago. Neither of them would've guessed that the world would've crapped out to a curse of all things. One stupid curse from one stupid ancient tablet.

The world was gone now, and he didn't really know what to do with that. What battle was there to fight anymore? They had technically lost.

Sam felt the car rolling to a stop and it was only then he realized his older brother had stopped talking altogether. He turned his head, to glance over at Dean, but his eyes fell on a car accident a few yards ahead of the dirty, black hood.

Off to the right side of the road was an overturned, familiar red car. Sam felt like someone had dumped ice into his veins.

"Dean." He breathed, "Dean, that's her-"

Dean threw the driver's door open and jumped out of the car. Sam did the same and jogged after his brother who sprinted straight to the broken car. Dean didn't hesitate to start digging through the wreckage while Sam took in the scene.

There was no sight of his missing friend, only her rental car. In the middle of the road was a corpse. Someone had shot it through the head. His eyes grazed over the glass and metal and landed back on his brother who was done digging through the car.

Dean had a brown boot in his hand, "It was under the seat."

"Dean."

"She was in a wreck." Dean said between clenched teeth. He suddenly threw the boot down the road before burying his fingers into his short, light brown hair, "She was in a _fucking_ wreck!"

Sam shook his head, "She isn't here, and someone had to shoot the walking corpse dead again."

Dean's jaw clenched, "Even if she walked away from this, Sammy, where would she go? Into the woods? Back into Atlanta?" He rubbed his lower face with his hand, "We need to find her. She could be hurt."

"Is her bag gone?" Sam asked and Dean nodded. Sam walked over to the trunk and knelt down. He pulled his lock picking kit out from his jacket pocket and began to toy with the lock on the car's trunk. After a few moments he got it open, and the trunk's contents spilled out onto the road.

An array of guns and knives hit the asphalt along with a carton of salt and a jug of holy water that was now leaking onto the road. Sam glanced over at Dean, "She left her weapons."

No hunter worth their salt would leave behind their weapons.

"She probably needed to travel light." Dean argued and Sam bobbed his head in agreement, but his mind went elsewhere. A thief would know to take the supplies from the easily accessible body of the car, but they wouldn't know about the goldmine hidden in the trunk. Anyone deciding to walk away from a car accident like this would've probably picked up his or her shoe before leaving. It just made sense. Beside that, all the guns that his long time friend owned were now on the asphalt by his feet. None were missing. If they had all been tucked away in the trunk, how would she have shot the corpse? "Don't do that."

"Dean, what?"

"I see the look on your face." Dean stepped toward his brother, "She isn't dead. She walked away from this."

Sam felt a lump form in his throat, "The dead can walk away now too, Dean. If she…if she _died_ in this wreck, her body would've walked away. She-"

"She's _not_ dead."

"She would've _known_ to grab her guns. She would've picked up her shoe! Dean-"

" _Kaylee is not dead_!" Dean roared.

The silence around them was interrupted by the sound of large, flapping wings. It was a sound Sam recognized too easily. In the supernatural world they were forced to live through, angels were just as real as demons. Unfortunately, depending on the day, angels were either allies or a hindrance.

Dean and Sam both reached for their guns and turned to aim at the newcomer. Bullets wouldn't do much against a full-blown angel, but having a weapon in hand always made them feel better.

"Please, keep yelling you two. I don't think the dead _jackasses_ two miles away quite heard you."

Sam's eyes widened at the sight of the angel before him and he was sure his brother was just as surprised. Mostly because this wasn't just some run of the mill angel. This was an _archangel_. More than that, he was an archangel they long believed to be dead.

"Gabriel?" Sam questioned with confused, narrowed eyes. Gabriel's brown, slightly wavy hair was pushed back and ended at the nape of his neck. His caramel brownish-green eyes glanced over the scene briefly, but snapped back to him and his brother with a knowing look. He wore a dark blue button up shirt with a brown jacket over it.

"The one and only." Gabriel replied. Confidence oozed from the archangel as he waltzed toward them.

"How the _fuck_ are you even alive?" Dean questioned. The last time they saw Gabriel was three years ago when Satan himself stabbed him through the chest with an angel blade. Which was the angels' weapon of choice and one of the only things that could really kill them. Yet, here he was, alive and as smug as ever. "Didn't Lucifer shiv your ass?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes, "You're welcome for that, by the way. I'm the entire reason you chuckleheads stopped the apocalypse three years ago." He motioned around them with his hands, "Not that _that_ really matters anymore."

"How did you survive?" Sam asked.

The archangel shrugged, "Not the question you should be asking right now, _moose_."

Sam held back a groan of annoyance. He didn't miss dealing with Gabriel, "What's going on right now? We know a curse caused this but how-"

"You're getting closer with the questions, but _still_ not what I'm looking for."

Dean motioned toward him with his gun, "What the hell do you want?"

" _Bingo_!" Gabriel cheered. "That's what I'm looking for. I have a job for you two to do while I figure out what the hell you morons did to the world."

"We didn't unleash the curse, that wasn't-" Sam began.

Gabriel scoffed, "Oh please, you _Winchesters_ are a curse in and of itself. Now if you focus on the mission I have for you I'll tell you all about our little Kaylee."

Dean rushed forward, "What do you mean? Is she alive?"

"Oh, she's alive alright."

"Where is she?" Sam pressed.

Gabriel shrugged, "How the hell would I know that? I just figured you two would want to know that she's still out there somewhere breathing."

"How do you _know_ she's alive?"

"I've been in the area. _Ish_." Gabriel shrugged again. Sam and Dean both glared at him and he sighed in annoyance, "Long story short, I saw her grab a ride from some sheriff in a cowboy's hat. You happy?"

"Not really." Dean snapped angrily.

Gabriel ignored Dean and continued, "Now, back to the task at hand-"

"That's it?" Dean snapped again and Sam watched as the archangel's jaw clenched in frustration. He lifted his hand towards his brother in a warning gesture. The Winchesters and Gabriel were on friendly terms before he died, but that didn't make him any less dangerous. Dean ignored Sam entirely and ranted on, "That's _all_ you're going to give us? That's she's safe and that you just magically came back to life in time for some apocalyptic curse!?"

Gabriel stepped toward the two of them with a glare settled on his features. The archangel body, his vessel, was significantly shorter than both him and Dean. Despite that, Sam felt worry settle in his gut at the anger in Gabriel's eyes, "All I'm going to give you? I'm down here trying to clean up _your_ mess!"

"It wasn't our fault. Crowley-" Sam began, but he didn't get far.

Gabriel scoffed, "Yeah, sure. Blame the _King of Hell_. How convenient." He shook his head, "You two are the dumbasses that let him steal the tablet from right under your noses." The Winchesters flinched at Gabriel's words, but he didn't relent, "And thank you very much, I got saved, rather _miraculously_ I might add, by daddy dearest a few months after Lucifer got thrown back into hell. I just decided to steer clear of you two because death follows you like a shadow and _I_ didn't really feel like dying again."

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds before Sam sighed, "We want to help you, Gabriel. Especially if it has anything to do with the mess we're in now. We just…We _need_ more information on what's happening."

Dean nodded in agreement, "What the hell is this curse doing exactly?"

"How did you find out it was a curse?"

Sam and Dean shared a glance before Sam spoke up, "The little information we found on the tablet mentioned that it was locked by a curse. A couple hours after Crowley stole the tablet, we got a call from Kaylee. She said that Crowley and Castiel disappeared and that the tablet got activated so we put two and two together and assumed all of this", Sam motioned around him with his hand, "Had something to do with said curse."

"Good assumption." Gabriel retorted.

"Do you know what happened to Cas?" Dean pressed. Kaylee had said that Castiel showed up when the tablet was being activated, but vanished without a trace. Sam and Dean hadn't heard from their angel friend since.

Gabriel smirked, "Funny you should ask. He's in the area."

"He is?" Sam's eyes widened in surprise.

"Yeah, I was able to locate him, to a degree, but before I could get an exact location Heaven's gates sealed shut."

Dean blinked in shock, "Wait a minute, Heaven's gates are sealed?"

"Hell too." Gabriel answered, "You see, that curse was an ancient ' _sealing'_ curse, for lack of a better term. The moment the tablet was activated, that curse shut and locked both Heaven and Hell's gates. Now the angels are stuck in heaven, the demons are stuck in hell, and any unlucky son of a bitch who was on Earth at the time of this are now stuck here with no source of power. Like _me_." Gabriel emphasized. He scoffed, "You two are just lucky I'm an archangel and a little of my power got saved. Otherwise, I would've murdered you both."

"Well, hooray for us." Dean replied in a dry tone.

Sam shook his head, "If the curse sealed heaven and hell, then why are the dead rising? What do the gates have to do with humans?"

Gabriel gave Sam a look that made him feel like he had asked the dumbest question on earth. Sam glared back at the archangel impatiently. "It sealed up the reapers as well, they're stuck in whatever limbo world they live in. Without reapers…"

"There's no one to take the souls to the other side." Sam mumbled in realization.

"Even worse than a bunch of souls stuck on Earth becoming ghosts and vengeful spirits, is the fact that these souls are sealed up in their dead bodies."

Dean paled at the thought, "Are they aware? In their bodies after death?"

"Doubt it." Gabriel replied and both Sam and Dean let out a breath of relief, "If they were they'd act more human. I think it's a very carnal, angry portion of their soul that remains." Gabriel's face had softened for a minute, but his gaze hardened again, "And they're gonna stay that way until we unlock the gates."

"So is that what you're trying to do? Fix the world by unsealing the gates?"

"Maybe we can just go ahead and leave Hell's gates locked." Dean mumbled.

Gabriel nodded, "Sure, that's step one, but unsealing the world is still the least of our problems."

"People are dying and then coming back as monsters hungry for human flesh." Dean scoffed, "What the fuck is worse than that?"

Gabriel raised his eyebrows at him, "There is a reason why that tablet wasn't written in the language of men, angels, or even demons. That _tablet_ ", He spat out the word, "Wasn't _ever_ supposed to be found and it wasn't _ever_ supposed to be opened like it was. This curse? It's the opening act." Gabriel shook his head, "When Crowley activated the tablet, he released something worse than _any_ monster you've ever had to come face to face with."

"What did it release?" Sam questioned. Gabriel replied in Enochian, the language of angels.

Dean shrugged, "Can we get a translation here?"

"It _doesn't_ translate." Gabriel snapped. "There is no man made word for it, and there is barely an Enochian term for it." He sighed, "All you need to know is that the chances of me fixing this thing are slim to none and we're probably _all_ going to die."

"That's just great." Dean threw his hands up.

Sam rubbed his forehead in frustration. Just when he thought he had reached the end of the tracks, the train just kept pushing forward into a bigger fucking mess. He nodded toward Gabriel, "So what do you need from us?"

"I need to find Castiel and Crowley." He replied, "And I need you to give me a ride to Atlanta."

Dean narrowed his eyes, "A ride? You need _us_ to give _you_ a ride?"

"I'm sorry, did I stutter?"

"Why don't you just fly your feathery ass to the city?" Dean asked.

Gabriel slapped Dean on the shoulder in a way that looked friendly, but Sam saw Dean flinch at the force behind the hit, "Because the gates are closed and my grace is running on fumes. It's probably best I don't waste it on arbitrary things. Especially when the Winchester taxi service is right here." He walked toward the Impala without another word.

"We're heading to Atlanta anyways to find Kaylee." Sam shrugged.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, alright."

"I call shotgun!" Gabriel shouted from the side of the car. The brothers shared one last look before heading toward their black muscle car. Sam glanced over his shoulder at the car wreck one last time.


End file.
